


The Digital Library

by Lafeae



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, And Sci-Fi, Drama & Romance, Human Connection Starved, M/M, Slight Political Conspiracy, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2020-12-21 14:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeae/pseuds/Lafeae
Summary: Joey knew he was desperate and strange. In a world where everyone lived in a computer simulation know as the Portal, he was one of the few human beings who lived in the outside world.Until Seto Kaiba walks through the door of his Digital Library. Attractive, curious, and shady, he piques Joey’s interest with an offer: human contact at a price—and Joey’s willing to do anything for it.No matter the cost.—AU, Puppyshipping/Violetshipping





	1. Or, specialised Internet spaces for specialised experiences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m shameless with ideas. 
> 
> This came from a picture I saw a few days ago, something about a 24h bookstore, which doesn’t seem like that big of stretch, and then it started to fall into sci-fi land. So there’s that. In any case, enjoy!

A buzz gently awoke Joey from his half-lull, alerting him to another customer. Though it wasn’t really the customer that woke him up so much as the sound itself. A slew of gentle blips alerted him to the traffic the store got. Customers in the hundreds, the thousands, even, between the hours of 10 PM and 4 AM. The higher the note got, the more full they were until, sometimes, he was required to check the monitor and see which rooms were filling up.

Digital libraries—that is, stores that offered specialised Internet space for specialised experiences that no longer existed on Earth—always filled up at night. When the blips got too high-pitch, he had to divert incoming customers one way or another. Make a new server; kick off people who’d been “experiencing” too long. Anything to sell another experience and make the boss, whoever the hell it was that owned the space or the technology, a few more credits.

But the buzz wasn’t a blip. It wasn’t a customer somewhere halfway across the world, or even one down the street. The buzz was foreign and weird.

Twisting in his chair, Joey swivelled towards the door.

A digital library was a small place. About two and half closets. If it was bought, it would probably be size of an apartment that a family of four could reasonably squeeze into. Panes of LED glass stuck up from the floor, creating mock shelves, constantly scrolling with information so fast that he couldn’t comprehend it. Most of it was in some foreign language, anyways. All for experiences. Experience descriptions, books, pictures. Whatever. Whatever the customer was looking for. All they would have to do is tap the screen—after they had paid, of course—and they could find whatever it was they wanted to see, read, or know.

He thought the source of the noise was one of those screens short-circuiting. They were two-generations old and always in need of repair. The library owner said he’d call a technician, but that was over two months ago. Because really, they didn’t need repairing. There was no reason to, because libraries weren’t necessary for their pictures or information, just their experiences. So no one ever physically entered the building.

At least, not until they did.

Joey leaned forward. So forward, his face was pressed to the bullet-proof glass he sat behind. He wiped off the steam and peered at the tall shadow dancing between the glass panes.

“Hey.”

The shadow leaned to the side, waving their hand in front of the screen before tucking it into the pocket of his neat chinos.

“Hey, you.”

The shadow stood up straight but didn’t turn.

Joey wiped off more of glass, getting a better look at the character in front of him. A man. Maybe a man, he was lithe but shapely in his hips and shoulders. That wasn’t the confusing part. Gender didn’t matter all that much, least of all to Joey. It was the fact that human being stood in front of him, existed in person. Living and breathing.

When was the last time he saw another human being?

The man was tall. Giraffe tall, pale, with neat combed hair that hung close to his eyes. Blue eyes. Glowing deep in the shimmering of the information flooding across the panes. The man looked up to the ceiling and stared, dead-eyed. He stood there, being, for several seconds.

Great, a smog-junkie.

It explained a lot. There wasn’t anything that the Portal couldn’t provide anyone online. School, jobs, entertainment, social gatherings, shopping, even travel. There was no need to leave the Portal for anything. And if people did, it was for short periods of time. Mostly. Joey could count the number of times he’d physically spoken to a person, and the number of words he’d said, on both hands. Maybe a big toe, too. Because if he did run into someone on the streets, it was a smog-junkie. Someone who sat out in the grimy air outside and stared at the sky and it’s low-looming clouds and lived in their personal fantasy world and talked to no one.

“Hey, junkman, if you ain’t buyin’, ya gotta get out,” he said, trying to be easy.

The owner said he didn’t want smog-junkies clogging up the place. “Give them an inch, and they’ll piss on the floor,” he said over voicechat. It was a place of business, but Joey couldn’t help but be a mix of curious and sympathetic. He doubted smog-junkies sat outside because they liked it.

Joey rapped on the glass. “Ya got fifteen minutes, man. Get cooled off or whatever, but there’s no free samples. An’ I don’t have the credits to spare ya, neither.”

The man rocked forward and pressed his hand to the glass. The information floated to a crawl. With the other hand, he swiped through a long list that Joey tried to read but couldn’t. He was more interested in the state-of-the-art watch on his wrist. Fine crystal, with numbers constantly flashing.

The man either didn’t know he was being watched, or didn’t care. He observed the glass panes, unamused, unexpressive, until he eventually he set both hands on the glass and lowered his head. He laughed. Long and loud, barking until he couldn’t breathe.

Joey grimaced. “A’right, man. That’s enough, it’s time to go,” he said.

The man rested his back against the glass and went back to looking at the ceiling, his laughter tapering.

Joey unlocked the door and exited the desk. He rounded to the glass panes, taking careful steps. The switchblade in his front pocket was suddenly heavy. He hadn’t used that thing for a long time, and it probably last opened a box. He gripped it tight, wondering briefly if he should just run back and be safe behind the glass.

The curiosity to be close to another human being was too enticing. He licked his lips and got within inches. The man had slid down the pane and sat on the floor. Even splayed out loosely, he held himself together. His shoulders and hips were even. Hands folded on his knees. A formerly well-to-do, now smog-junkie. He could see that, what with his watch and all.

“I don’t wanna hurt ya,” Joey began. “I get that it’s a tough world out there. Hot as balls, too, but ya can’t stay here. There’s a hospital not too far from here. They don’t need credits, least not upfront, but you can get three hots and cot there, maybe get the smog outta your lungs an’—,”

The man’s head thunked against the glass. A menacing smile split his face. “You’re actually not up to date. I can’t believe it.”

“N-no. Not in store. The Portal plug-in is though. All ya gotta do is...”

“I _know_ how it works. Trust me, I know how it works.”

“Oh-kay. Okay. Yeesh.” The tension in Joey’s shoulders eased. He let go of the knife. “Ya know how it works. Got it. What are ya doin’ here, then? Here here?”

“Why does anyone need to come to the physical location?”

Joey shrugged.

“Of course you don’t know,” the man said, hopping up. “I suppose, for this job, all you need to be is Pavlov’s dog.”

“A what now?”

“Tch. You work in information, look it up.”

“Hey now! Even if I’m a whatever, at least I’m not a junkman bargin’ in here an’ bein’ an asshole. I have a job.”

“And? Do you want a trophy?”

“That’s it. Fifteen minutes was me bein’ nice, but since you’re a jerk, it’s time for you to go. No credits, no service.”

The man jammed his watch against the glass. Pixels floated around it, forming a makeshift payment kiosk. As it loaded information, dialling into the Portal and accessing banking information, the man glowered at Joey. Even his eyebrows were shapely, though hidden. He was a strangely put together character, sharp in his cheekbones, with a slender but uneven bridge of his nose. Broken. So he was very familiar with other people.

The screen went blank before a box appeared.

_Booting Portal v. 3.1.2_  
.  
.  
.  
_ Launching User.Access.Registry._  
.  
.  
.  
_ Unlimited Access Verified_  
.  
.  
.  
_ Welcome back, Mister Seto Kaiba_  
.  
.  
.  
||_Select Experience..._||  
.  
.  
.

“Unlimited access...”Joey muttered. The pixels died, and fluttered to a series of selected experiences that, realistically, were only useful when plugged into the Portal. “I thought that was a myth.”

“Its not available to public peons like you,” the man, Kaiba, said.

Joey sizzled in annoyance, but he didn’t back from this Kaiba’s death-glare. It was deeply, truly hateful, with a mix of jest in the middle, lifted by his little smirk. But it was a pulling gaze, too. This wasn’t an avatar. His eyes weren’t simulated. The true deep blue really existed. The blemish on his cheeks and the sweat glistening in his pores was real, too.

“I—I ain’t a peon.“

“Hmph.”

“Or whatever dog-thing ya called me. You don’t look so special to me, neither.” Joey crossed his arms and did an up-down on Kaiba, coveting every divot, fold, and crease of his clothes. The name burned in the back of his brain.

Kaiba.

Seto Kaiba.

Kaiba. Kaiba. Kaiba.

Where had he heard it before?

“Then you’re very unqualified to work in the information sector,” Kaiba replied. He flicked through screens and drop-downs with practiced ease. “You don’t know me. You don’t know why people come to physical locations. You don’t know what Pavlov’s dog is. Useless.”

“Fine then, if I’m so damn useless, I’ll go be useless over here. Don’t ask me for any help,” Joey said, turning towards the whistling notes coming from behind the desk. Servers full.

“Fine. Go on doggie. Respond to your bell.”

The door slammed behind Joey, and he punched in the lock code before falling into his chair. In reality, readjusting the servers was easy. A few keystrokes and button presses, plus just a little bit of analysis. He could do it in his sleep. He did do it in his sleep.

But as he set the next server, he found himself watching his customer. Which was weird to think. He had a customer actively browsing the digital library. For what, he couldn’t tell. Kaiba was robotically searching through menus and different libraries of information for something that looked very archaic and labyrinthine. Walls upon walls of codified information being sorted through and tapped at, before he finally extracted small bits of data and transferred it to his watch with a few taps against the crystalline screen.

Kaiba huffed the whole time.

“People come in for porn, usually,” Joey said after the first hour.

Kaiba didn’t reply, and he rounded the edge of the store before taking up access on a different pane of glass.

“But I haven’t seen that in over a year. The boss hasn’t exactly made this place look too open. I light up the sign if I remember, but the shutters are all closed up. Door needs a little bit of oil or somethin’ to get goin’ again. I mean, you see it yourself. Inside’s clean enough. I get around to that at night when it gets real dull, but there’s only so many times you can clean a floor.”

Briefly, Kaiba looked towards Joey. A passing thought, a question rounded on his pale lips. Just a shade deeper than his skin. Not pink, but not bad or cracked. He seemed less like a smog-junkie and more like someone with Sloth Sickness. Not that anyone actually knew what they looked like, not until they died. But he was pale and stick-like, same as the photos Joey had seen pop up on the newsfeeds. Still, he said nothing and continued combing the information.

On the second hour, Joey said: “I don’t think you’re looking for porn. You’d’ve left by now, an’ I’d be cleanin’ up your mess. Which reminds me: we don’t have a bathroom that customers can use. You’ll have t’ go to the public bathroom at the end of the block. By the Amy’s Café. It’s hidin’ behind the delivery rate sign.”

“Why are you talking?” Kaiba asked.

Joey knew and didn’t know. He blew air out his nose and replied, “You’re here. And even if you’re an asshole, it beats a blank.”

The outline of a book shimmered in Kaiba’s hands, and he flicked through the pages. Paper ruffled off-time to his flips, but the noise made Joey smile. It felt like an actual library, for once. Not a porn shop. Or a specialised experience shop. And Kaiba’s hands were meticulous and long, with polished, clean nails. Pointed. Probably warm, too, like the rest of his sweat-dotted skin.

“If ya ask nicely, I can help you find what you’re lookin’ for.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Two heads are better than one; you’re workin’ hard on figurin’ out somethin’. It’d be easier to plug-in to the Portal, y’know.”

Kaiba rolled his eyes and shoulders, all at once, and calmly asked: “Do you think I came to this dump because it’s scenic?”

“I...no?”

Carding his fingers through his hair, Kaiba went back to work.

Joey spent the quiet time wondering where he knew the name Kaiba from, what kind of connotation his name, his being, might have. It was something he heard on a newsfeed, or from some reporter. A ticker reel, or an advertisement before accessing the Portal himself. There were a thousand possibilities, the constant stream of information that he drowned out when he had the chance. It was all noise and static in his brain. Which was probably why the name was stuck in the garbage pit.

Not knowing who Kaiba was was irritating, but not necessary. Joey would have been curious one way or another. And while he could have looked up all his user information, ran it through the library and pulled up every scrap the library had on him, Joey preferred not to. He watched instead. The same way he stared out his apartment window and hoped something interesting would pass by. Delivery trucks and their automated workers were too dull. He once thought there had to be people in those trucks, but its delivery service was systematic. It pulled up to the apartment complex and put packages in the chute by the door, sending it through the building and into the proper apartment. No human contact required.

It was weird. He heard people. Hundreds of families lived around him, but he never saw them. He wondered if they noticed the dim or broken lights in the halls, the curling carpet, the chipped linoleum. Or maybe that was just him; he walked it everyday, took the elevator down and crossed the block to an old alley that let him into the store. He didn’t see his coworkers during shift change. They didn’t work physically—everything could managed in-home, at their own Portal, but Joey was something of an anachronist. Old-fashioned, hopeful. Plus someone needed to clean the store, just in case, and the owner wasn’t too peeved to let someone else do his job.

It paid off every so often. And he stared, unrelenting, memorising every detail of Kaiba and wishing he would get closer.

“Ya seemed surprised it was outta date,” Joey said after the third hour.

Kaiba squatted down to read. “I was.”

“Why?”

Derisive, Kaiba replied, “Why do you think?”

“I dunno. That’s why I was askin’ you. Ya don’t gotta be an ass about everythin’.” Joey kept close to the glass, wiping it off as the steam set in again. The air conditioner rattled awake behind him. “Do ya always talk to other people like that?”

“What other people?”

Joey sucked on his cheek. “Y’know, on voicechat or the avatars or whatever.”

“I don’t talk to other people,” Kaiba said. “Least of all on the Portal.”

The brunet’s legs shook, and he rocked back, sitting cross-legged. His attention never faltered from the book.

“Ya got unlimited access though. Why wouldn’t ya go onto the Portal all the time? Gotta be more interesting than tryin’ to look up somethin’ here. Faster, too.” Joey hated asking after he did. It sounded like he wanted to run Kaiba off, which was anything but true. Even if he didn’t have the manners to talk to people, talk was talk. “Whatever. If ya like it outta date, who am I to judge? Do you, rich-boy.”

Kaiba’s head rose. Their eyes met for a split second. “You figure out who I am yet?”

“Nah. But your watch is nice. I wouldn’t let the smog-junkies see it.”

“Mm.”

Soon, the sun began to light the overcast clouds, leaking through the front shutters, and woke Joey from his vigilante haze of Kaiba. He stood, sending the books back into the glass panes and closing out of every program he had accessed. It was almost time for shift change for Joey, too.

“All done for the night?” Joey asked.

“Yes. I need you to do something, if you’re even capable.”

The sour comment was held back. “What?”

“Delete all records of my access.”

“I...I don’t...” Joey cleared his throat. “That’s a tall order, y’know. All records need back-up. Jus’ in case there’s a problem later down the line. Credits and all that.”

“What credits?”

True, Joey thought, what credits exchanged hands? The mythical unlimited access was something bought upfront and didn’t require constant in-put. The simple and free use of the Internet and the Portal.

“I kinda know how,” he finally said. “But ya better make it worth it.”

Huffing, Kaiba approached the desk. “Open the slot.”

Joey did so, and he Kaiba stuck his hands through. “What the heck—?”

“How much do you want?” Kaiba asked, tapping on the watch face.

“Want of what?”

“Credits, you idiot.”

Joey planted his hand on top of Kaiba’s. It wasn’t as warm as he thought it would be, but it was slick and soft. As if he’d stuck his hand in a glove of lotion.

“I’m good,” he said, knowing how much extra credits could help. But the touch was far more worth it. And he hung on, adding, “Jus’...I hope ya stop by again. It’s prolly gonna stay outta date.”

“Hmph. I doubt it. Nothing’s that behind.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Kaiba pulled his hand away, and he slammed the slot closed. “Just make sure you delete the information and we’ll see about a proper arrangement,” he said, and coolly walked out the door, flooding the room orange light.

Joey swallowed his swollen tongue and got to work. Deleting all the information would take a good half-hour. More than that, because his hand tingled from the feeling of Kaiba’s beneath his. He was crass and rude, and probably never coming back, but Joey held onto the feeling and did the task asked him with hope humming in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there’s a bit of mystery. Why is Kaiba there, who is he that Joey can’t remember! Will he come back? 
> 
> Either way, tell me what you think. I’m tentatively guessing six chapters for this, but we’ll see what happens.


	2. Or, sort of like the old Internet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been in a slump. Winter blues have got me, and video game are enticing. But I promise to post as often as I can. So tnanks for your patience. Here’s the next chapter :3

Joey walked back to his apartment slowly. He kept thinking he’d see Kaiba walking along the side of the road. He’d stick out for sure. His skin had a neon glow, and he had whipped out of the store with purpose. But those long legs carried him fast, probably to a fancy car. The kind that didn’t make a noise until they were a mile past you and you only saw an after image blur. Some of the rich folks in town were like that.

Dwelling on it made no sense. The chance that Kaiba would listen to him was so microscopically impossible he tried to erase it from it his mind. 

Except he couldn’t. 

By the time he got to his door, he already wondered if he should look Kaiba up on the Portal or not. That, of course, depended on the price to access the information. He only had so many credits to his name. And it barely paid for the apartment who’s numbers were hanging haphazardly against the metal. 

_1725_

The seven was upside down, and he always thought that he now lived in an apartment the same as his birthday, and he kind of liked it. It was weird. And unique. Plus messaging the superintendent had been futile. He just got overly chipper automated responses, promising they’d be on it. But it was about as likely as the glass panes in the store being fixed.

The apartment wasn’t worth it. Two room apartments were supposed to be luxury. Once. Maybe fifty years ago. His Old Man always bragged about having a two room apartment. “Think about it, the shitter is all private! Think about that peacefulness. We’d shit like kings!” and he couldn’t help but smile. He’d outdone his Old Man, at least. 

Collapsing onto the futon, Joey debated on taking a shower before eventually sprawling out. The fan clicked over him, and he knew it could mesmerise him to sleep most days. Except today. Today, all he could think about was Kaiba. 

Kaiba.

It definitely wasn’t a common name. But it itched in his head like he’d seen it a million times. 

He couldn’t hold onto the information for too long. He waited until a little past eight before booting up his Portal. The headpiece fit him tightly. Prongs stabbed into his temple, but it didn’t take long for his body to slacken, relaxed by whatever parts of his brain the headset activated.

As it loaded, his muscles burned. Probably his nerves, too. Or whatever the Portal accessed through the headset. He knew he wasn’t flailing around in his living room like old VR sets. 

His hub world appeared. A clash of red and yellow, to look cool, but mostly left blank. It didn’t really matter if no one else saw it. 

In the distance, a million doors stretched out in front of him, each one offering a different site, experience, or treasure trove of information. All he had to do was speak what he wanted, and it would search for the information that matched the best. Sort of like the old Internet, he learned once, though it would give him options from every corner of the universe, not just the bits corporations thought would interest their consumer the most. 

Free information existed, of course. But it was a jog to get to. He was always winded by the time he got to the first door of information, and then usually the site was either blocked or so outdated it wasn’t worth the trip. Still, being bereft had its limitations. He’d take the jog; at least he stayed fit that way.   
  
There were a few free options from the get go: emergency services, job offerings, government sites, and chat rooms as long as their content was vanilla. All it required was your handle and you could talk to someone. Which he was grateful for.   
  


_Logging in_   
_._   
_._   
_._   
_Welcome Joseph_Wheeler_   
_._   
_._   
_._   
_Would you like to buy...(?)_

“Stupid ads.” He clicked away from it and entered the simulated building, dodging faces and avatars he didn’t know. Picking out his friend was easy. Shorter stature than most avatars, with a crop of wild, tri-coloured hair, Yugi stood out. 

“Hey, man!” 

“Morning, Joey.” Yugi waved and motioned for them to go into an unoccupied room. “You just get off work?” 

“Yup. Couldn’t wait, either.” 

“Was it bad?” 

“Nah. Same-old, same-old.” 

They entered and password sealed the door behind them. If they were lucky, a few of their other friends would trickle in throughout the day, probably skipping out on work for a few minutes to chat, but for now, Yugi was the person he needed to talk to. 

“Sorry I ain’t been on in a few days,” Joey said, flopping into a chair. “I’ve been gettin’ off work an’ goin’ right to sleep. I don’t sweat so much that way.” 

Yugi sat across from him, materialising a table. “You still haven’t fixed the AC?”

“Nope. I got other things that’re more important. Like shoes.” 

“I could buy you a pair now.” 

“Then I’d owe ya.” 

“But you could fix the AC that way. Or, if you want, I could give you the credits for the AC. Either way, it doesn’t bother me.” 

Joey chuckled. “S’alright, man. I don’t wanna owe ya. I appreciate it, though. Seriously. I’ll get it fixed when I get some down time. Or I get me some hours. I think the girl on seconds is about to have a baby, so I should get a few weeks of doubles. That’s what the owner says.” 

“I’m surprised he’s going to keep her,” Yugi said, smiling tersely. 

“He’s a sentimental guy, I guess,” Joey said, shrugging. “That or he’s just too lazy to hire someone else. Either way, I’m gonna benefit from it. Get a new AC, maybe actually upgrade my headset.” 

Yugi’s smile widened and he waved his hand, materialising several decks of cards. He selected a French deck. “I’m glad there are still people out there like that.” 

“Like what?” Joey asked. 

“You know...nice.”

“Eh, ya shouldn’t believe all that negative news your Gramps listens to. There’s good people out there.” 

Yugi started to deal, and Joey didn’t even need to ask what they were playing. They’d had a game of Rummy running for the last six weeks, and Yugi was ahead by a seventy point margin. One of them would get to one million eventually. 

“I believe that, too. But I don’t hear enough of it,” Yugi said, taking the first turn. “I’ll have to tell him about this.” 

“Be sure ya do. An’ tell him it was me, too,” Joey insisted. “He seems to think I only work with the worst of the worst.” 

“You always complain about smog-junkies.”

“‘Cause they’re my biggest problem! They always wander in an’ then I gotta be the bad guy. I don’t wanna, it’s not like they’d be like that if other people didn’t suck,” Joey replied. “I mean, do ya blame ‘em for wantin’ to be outside an’ actually meetin’ other people?” 

“But the air makes you so sick.” 

“Supposedly.” 

Yugi laid down a meld and discarded. His silences never bothered Joey. He was a reluctantly optimistic person, wary of the outside world. He lived in the Portal. Joey couldn’t recall the last time he saw Yugi’s status set to ‘offline’. One of these days, he’d get around to see when Yugi’s last logout date was, but until then, he’d enjoy his friend’s company. 

“You’re listening to that conspiracy podcast, aren’t you?” Yugi asked. 

Joey bit his tongue and threw down his meld as hard as the pixels would let him. “Maybe, but that ain’t what makes me think that.” 

“...what did I walk into?” 

Joey looked over his shoulder, even if he recognised Tristan’s voice. 

‘Nothin’. I’m just tellin’ Yugi that outside doesn’t make people sick. It can’t. It’s not like air is toxic,” Joey said, his eyes following Tristan until he sat down at the table. “I walk in it every day, after all. I’m not crazy.” 

“That’s debatable,” Tristan quipped.

Frowning, Joey stared at Yugi until he made a play. “I’m not as crazy as junkmen, okay? I even walked around town a few weeks ago, an’ as you can see, it didn’t affect me too bad. My eyes watered for a few days, but that’s normal they say.” 

“I don’t think you’ve spent as much time outside as some people, Joey,” Yugi interjected. 

“Maybe not. But more’n you guys do. And I think,” Joey lowered his head and paused. How to approach this segue? “I think there’s someone out there that’s spent more time than me...or junkmen.” 

“Oh?” Yugi and Tristan asked simultaneously, though Tristan was much less enthusiastic. 

Joey gave him the finger. “This guy came into the library today an’ said he didn’t use the Portal for anythin’. But I dunno how. He had unlimited access.” 

“Then he’s lying, Joe,” Tristan said, rolling his eyes. 

“I saw it! It flashed right before my eyes! This guy came into the store, got super excited that we were outta date, and then stayed in there for like three hours. Never had a credit go through the system.” 

“Then he’s well-off,” Yugi said.

“Prolly. I couldn’t really tell, and he...he wasn’t familiar. I guess that makes sense, since we don’t really see people. But I was just super excited that someone came into the shop that had all their marbles,” Joey said, and then remembered the laughter. “Or most of ‘em. And then we sorta had a conversation, so that’s something.” 

Joey thumbed through his cards before realising he had to make a play. Draw. Discard. He wondered how it would feel if he played cards with someone for real. Across a real table. The last time he did anything like that was the ancient board-game him and his sister, Serenity, would play when their parents didn’t have enough credits for an online game. The pieces were real, a little warped and faded with time. The dice were yellow. But he liked the way they clattered on the game board. No matter how advanced the Portal was, they never got the clatter quite right. 

Briefly, Joey imagined digging up a French deck (where would he even order one from?) and bringing it to work. Shuffle it. Cut it. Box it. Shuffle again. He’d even learn how to do that bridge Yugi did with ease. And then, when Kaiba entered the store again, he would ask for a game. Probably as price to delete his info again. 

Would he even agree?

Yugi waved at him. Blinking, Joey glanced around the board before drawing and discarding. 

“Must’ve been a good conversation,” Yugi prodded. 

“Eh. Not really, but it was a conversation. It was crazy. I saw him sweat. Sweat! When’s the last time you saw that, and it wasn’t Gramps? Never. I bet never.” 

“He is crazy,” Tristan concluded. 

“I’m not. C’mon! Is it really that stupid that I wanna believe in talkin’ to people in real life where it’s just...there?” He asked, desperate, slapping a card down on the table. “I wanna come see you guys one of these days. I will. But if I gotta get it outta this asshole stranger for now? Fine, whatever.” 

Tristan reached over, slapping Joey on the back of the head. 

In retaliation, Joey slammed his cards down and lunged towards Tristan, felling him to the ground. Before their bodies tangled together, they were smiling. As he straddled Tristan and was flipped over, he barked to laugh, struggling to find air. 

“You’re something else,” Tristan wheezed. “I’m sure we’ll all get together one of these days.” 

“Yeah.” 

Not to feel left out, Yugi inched off his chair and beside his friends, waiting for them to sit upright. Warmth filled Joey’s chest. He supposed moments like these made it hard to leave the Portal. 

—

The rattling air conditioner woke Joey up. He mistook it for a blip on the computer, and when it wasn’t that, he looked to the door. Nothing. Not even a smog-junkie. 

For a week, the air conditioner made his heart slam into his ribs. Part of him thought that Kaiba would turn around and show up the next day. Then he could rub it in his face that, yes, he was capable of erasing data. And he had. Not that Kaiba, or the fictional version of him that Joey had been imagining, would care. He was a jerk and would turn turn his nose up at it, saying something derisive. 

Or something like that.

As each day passed, he became more dejected and tried not to even look at the door. Maybe he was whatever Pav-dog Kaiba called him. 

No. 

But that didn’t mean that Kaiba wouldn’t show up eventually. So he bought a deck of cards. And in the meanwhile, Joey promised not to look into who he was. Not even type the name in the search bar and actually use whatever site came up first; no primo information. He would learn the old-fashioned way. 

And he kept, with the tiniest piece of his soul, hoping. 

—

“..._new and improved! The ion-infused KC-7 headset is the epitome of comfort and style. No more red marks or static discharge, access the Portal and all its plug-ins in the blink of an eye. Brought to you by.._.” 

A buzz sounded. 

Joey clicked away from the pop-up he’d seen for the billionth time and swivelled towards the door. His mouth went dry; he knew, without a doubt, that it wasn’t the air conditioner. But he checked, just in case. 

Wiping off the window, Joey pressed forward but tried not to be excited. Breathe in. Deeper. Let it go. “Back so soon?” he asked, as if a month hadn’t passed. 

“Unfortunately,” Kaiba replied. 

“Aw, c’mon, be honest, ya like this place.” 

Through the condensation, he saw Kaiba roll his eyes. The man threw his whole body into it. 

Wordless, Kaiba pressed his watch the glass panel and began accessing the library, immediately grabbing for books and settling in. He became mute, focused and determined, with curl on his brow Joey couldn’t place. Then again, he often thought about how facial expressions crossed through pixels. There were free movies he’d watched, with no sound, no colour, and yet they were expressive beyond compare. Menacing scowls, wide brows and mouths, and deep blush he knew was there without colour to tell him. Sure, the make-up was defined and hokey, but it just showed off those expressions. 

And for a silent man, Kaiba was expressive in that way. Flittering between emotions Joey couldn’t identify. His fingertips pulled at his lip, and he chewed on his thumbnail but tore it cleanly. Perfect. 

“If ya want, I think there’s chairs in the back,” Joey offered when Kaiba braced back and stared at the ceiling, rubbing his neck. “They’re metal things so they might have rust on them, but ya look like you’ve had your shots.” 

“Hmph. If only I could say the same of you.” 

Joey grit his teeth. Why were the good-looking ones pricks? “Couldn’t tell ya. My pa didn’t give me the vet records. But hey, you lived last time, right?” 

“In theory.” 

“So what, you’re a ghost?”

“The reanimated,” Kaiba deadpanned. 

“You sure are pale enough.” Joey stood and exited the booth after checking the servers. He went back again for the playing cards. “But ya ain’t goin’ around with yelling_ ‘braaa-insssss_’,” he said, heading to the closet-toilet combo in the back. 

“You’ve watched Romero?” 

“Who?” 

Kaiba sighed. “George A. Romero. The director of _Night of the Living Dead_. It’s widely believed to be where the zombie genre started.” 

“Huh. Didn’t know that.” With a tug, Joey pulled folding chairs out from behind the toilet and brought them to the main floor. “So it’s super old.” 

“Old enough that’s it’s out of copyright.” 

“That can happen?” Joey asked, eyes wide. He opened the chair and dropped it by Kaiba. 

The brunet hardly glanced over to talk, let alone look at the chair. His quizzical gaze fell between Joey and the chair, as if he didn’t know how to process it. 

The digital book fell from his hands and he folded it over his knees. His eyes hid beneath his lashes, long and delicate, and it astounded Joey to be close enough to notice that. And the pores on Kaiba’s face. 

“There was a time it did. So if you want to educate yourself, it should be free to view,” Kaiba replied. 

“I’ll check it out, then.” 

“Whatever.” 

Kaiba had disappeared into a void of thought. His voice as sharp as water-logged bread. The book reappeared in his hands and he flipped through the pages before glancing back up at the glass pane. From the side, it looked like a mess of text in a foreign language, coupled with a few vague pictures: a building, a boy, and blue-print schematics. 

The chair hissed against the tile as Joey sat. 

“What are you doing?” Kaiba snapped. 

“Figured ya might want a chair.” 

“And you’re sitting because...?” 

“Uh...well, I work here so I could help or...” 

Kaiba groaned and pressed his forehead on the glass, flicking the pictures away. “You were hired to press buttons. You’re not actually a librarian, so don’t go tripping over your overinflated ego.” 

“Hey, I deleted your crap! Give me some credit.” 

“Oh, lovely. A child in primary can do that.” 

“You asked and I delivered,” Joey said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And if I recall, ya said that we’d make proper arrangements if these things were still outta date. Which they are, because no one ever cares about these things. I think I at least deserve a ‘thanks Joey, ya helped me out’ or ‘hey Joey, I appreciate ya holdin’ up your end of the deal’.” 

“I couldn’t possibly do that.” 

“Course ya can’t. Ya ain’t got a nice bone in your body.” 

“No, you idiot, I can’t do it because how would I have known your name was Joey?” Kaiba asked. 

Joey’s lips parted, and he wanted to scream. He wanted to lunge at Kaiba, but he didn’t. Instead he rested his elbows against his knees and nodded, and his head filled with cotton. He walked right into the trap, outsmarted. Kaiba was probably revelling—he couldn’t tell, he went straight back to work—he was biting back a snicker. It popped out as a snort. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothin’. Nothin’,” Joey said, biting his lip. “You’re right. Ya couldn’t’ve. I’ll give ya that one, but only this once. Assumin’ we got a little partnership goin’ on here,” he bargained. 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” 

Joey canted his head. “True. An’ since I know your name, I guess ya outta know mine. Joey Wheeler, for all your experiencin’ needs.” 

“Short for Joseph?” 

“Yep.”

Kaiba hummed, mindless, tapping between the screens and pulling up more pictures, more information. 

“What’s got ya so focused, anyways? Ain’t too much information out there that someone like you can’t access,” Joey said, leaning forward to try and get a better idea of what was being searched. 

Kaiba swiped it all away. “Did you figure out who I am, then?” 

“Nah. Figured you’d show up an’ could tell me yourself.”

“That’s presumptuous.” 

Joey opened his hands, and Kaiba barely looked up before turning back to his book. The page hadn’t flipped. Instead, his hand rested on his breast, fiddling with the string of necklace buried beneath his button-up. “Do you access the Portal often?” Kaiba asked, tentative. 

“A little bit. Mostly for stuff here and chatrooms at home,” Joey replied. “Why?” 

“No reason.” 

“If you’re sure.” 

He continued to fiddle with the necklace, and Joey continued to watch, happy to enjoy the warmth he thought was between them. It was probably the glass panes, they leaked heat like a volcano, but his skin fizzled more than usual.   
  
Kaiba stood, flicking the data from the screen to his watch, and sat beside Joey. He pushed away, giving them space, but their elbows rubbed nonetheless. 

Joey pretended not to notice. “So ya really don’t talk to people?” 

“Not if I can help it.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s complicated.” Kaiba opened the book again. For once, Joey saw the tether to the glass. “Maybe it’s the failure of any interesting topic of conversation with people. Or the lack of depth, and the twisting of words.” 

“So ya avoid it all together?” Joey asked. “That seems a little much.” 

“As I said, it’s complicated.”

“If you say so,” Joey half-heartedly agreed. “Must be lonely.” 

“It didn’t used to be.” 

All the pieces made no sense to Joey. No talking to people, no going on the Portal. Holing himself up in a little store with outdated technology looking for information but not asking for help. There were only so many types of people that secretive, closed in. There weren’t too many people that kept to themselves to that level, and Joey supposed he could respect that, even if he was still curious about the ‘why’. 

“Until ya find what your lookin’ for, I’ll be here to keep ya company,” Joey said. 

“Mm.” 

“And by the way, I think I figured ya out. You’re a spy of some kind. That’s why ya don’t go on the Portal or talk to people. Gotta keep all your info safe.” 

Kaiba smirked. “Not even close.” 

“Damn. Guess I’ll try again sooner or later.” 

They drifted into silence, and more than an hour must have passed before the server demanded Joey’s attention. He figured someone like Kaiba could manage silence for a long time, and it got him thinking about all the times he spent alone, not talking to anyone. It was exhausting. And then he magnified that, and he could almost pity Kaiba. Not that he knew the man’s situation, he might have been lying. But he didn’t think so, and a little fear crept in as he imagined going an entire month without talking to anyone. Because maybe Kaiba had. 

Sitting back down, Joey pulled the deck from his pocket. 

He spent a long while staring at the queen of spades. He imagined himself asking Kaiba if he wanted to play. Probably a million times, and he was sure they were true. But it was all in his head. He looked up and found Kaiba still reading, or scrolling through his watch, or going back more information. 

The sun began to filter through the shutters. “The suns up.” Kaiba rolled his shoulders and cast the book back into the glass pane. “I have to go.” 

“I thought you were a zombie, not a vampire.” 

“They’re both undead,” Kaiba replied. 

“I didn’t hear a no.” 

Sighing, Kaiba reluctantly reached over and let his hand hover over the back of Joey’s. He inched up, letting his knuckles brush the palm, but didn’t force it. “I assume you’re going to uphold our agreement?” Kaiba asked. 

“A’course. Only if you do, too.” 

The palm made contact. A tornado touching ground, twisting through Joey. It wasn’t anything special. Serenity held his hand all the time when they were kids. But they way Kaiba etched his fingers between the gaps of Joey’s enraptured him. There had to be a musk. Some secret technique that Kaiba possessed. Maybe it was part of the reason he didn’t talk to people much, because this always happened. Not that it bothered Joey much. 

“To the best of my ability. We’ll see how long that goes,” Kaiba replied. He stroked Joey’s hand for several more seconds before clearing his throat and standing. “You had better figure out who I am soon. For your sake.” 

Unwilling to let go, Joey followed as Kaiba stood, but it was too late. He held onto his hand to retain the heat. “Ya gotta give up some info, then. Next time, me an’ you are actually gonna talk. Ya hear me?” 

As the door closed, Kaiba replied: “Only if you watch _Night of the Living Dead_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if it’s a little slow. I have more planned for next chapter. 
> 
> Anyways, tell me what you think!


	3. Or, a whole world out there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is hard. Especially in a quarantine. xD enjoy this effort of love

_Night of the Living Dead (1968) _

_Director: George A. Romero _   
_Starring: Duane Jones, Judith O’Dea _

_Synopsis: The **dead** come back to life and eat the **living** in this low budget, black and white film. Several people barricade themselves inside a rural house in an attempt to survive the **night**. Outside are hordes of relentless, shambling zombies who can only be killed by a blow to the head._

_Click here to buy more information...(?)_

  
Joey paid three credits to learn about the movie. He didn’t need to know much, just enough to get the gist of what he needed, and he clicked away before the page got any wiser and charged him twice. Sites said they didn’t do that, but most people were unsuspecting. When they were experiencing and reading and looking around, they forgot. 

That was the funny thing about the Portal. How easy it was to get lost looking for things. Running door-to-door, accessing anything and everything. Running up charges. If you needed something, the Portal was always there. It prayed on an open mind, or at least that’s what Yugi and his grandfather said. It knew things it didn’t need to know. Joey always thought they were crazy, even when sometimes he’d see advertisements on doors for food when he was hungry or, recently, AC repair services and new units that could fit into his porthole window. 

Whether it did or not didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he going to click on them, though as he perused doors for a free copy of _Night of the Living Dead_, he saw an ad for tennis shoes. They were a nice pair, too, with a neat navy stripe.

Soon. 

He pushed by the ad and opened the door and slipped into a small, makeshift theatre with a hundred old, flopdown chairs. They weren’t comfortable to sit in, but Joey picked one far in the back. 

The theatre was desolate. He wasn’t too surprised that there weren’t any other avatars in the theatre. People didn’t like free movies because they were usually old and boring. A bygone of the past. But he had sat in plenty of empty theatres watching those old, exaggerated movies on screens so small he had to squint to make out some of the words on the text cards flashing in the middle of scenes. That was okay. People didn’t know what they were missing out on. 

As the screen flickered to life, something uneasy startled Joey. He had never watched a scary movie alone. And it wasn’t that he was scared of watching it alone, no way, just that it didn’t seem right.

He slinked out the door as the title card flashed on screen. He’d try another time. 

—

“So you really aren’t gonna tell us who this dude is?” Tristan asked. 

Joey huffed for the thousandth time. “Does it matter? I don’t know who he is, so it ain’t like you’re gonna know who he is.” 

“That’s so not true. You didn’t know who Pegasus Crawford was, either.” Tristan picked up part of the discard and laid down a meld. He was right. Joey hadn’t known—and still didn’t know—Pegasus Crawford when they were playing a trivia game months ago. How was he supposed to know about some game developer from a hundred years ago?

Joey bit his lip and considered his play. “Didn’t that Crawford guy freeze himself or somethin’?” 

“That’s just a rumour.” 

Yugi chuckled. “It’s a pretty solid rumour, though. Gramps said something about them finding a cryogenics lab in San Francisco. Or was it Los Angeles?” 

“Whatever. He’s a popsicle by now,” Tristan replied. 

They both nodded, and Yugi shrugged. “It’s your turn, Joey.” 

The blonde glanced up from his hand and grunted. He had drifted off for the third or fourth time during the game. “Sorry. I was just thinking,” he said, and he drew a card before discarding. 

“What about?” 

“The only thing he knows how to think about,” Tristan answered. “This nameless junkman.” 

“He ain’t a junkman!” 

Tristan raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Whatever, but what else am I supposed to call him? You seriously can just give us a name. Unless...” A devious smile spread across Tristan’s cheeks. 

“Oh no ya don’t.” 

“You got a crush on him.” 

Yugi was laughing and blushing. Tristan was laughing and coughing. And Joey hummed in anger until he was laughing, too. He didn’t know what for; maybe the fumes of walking back and forth so much to work the last few weeks. That, and he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Kaiba, much as he wanted to. He had even peeked into the theatre a couple more times, trying to watch the movie, but he couldn’t stomach it. 

“It ain’t a crush,” Joey said when they stopped laughing. “If anyone’s got a crush on anyone, it’s Yugi with Téa.” 

“I—what?” 

“You heard me.” 

Though there was only so much an avatar could do to blush, Joey imagined that Yugi was as red as a pepperoni. “It’s not a crush, really. I just like watching her dance streams, that’s all. She’s...she’s real talented, and a good teacher,” he replied sheepishly. 

Joey snorted. “An’ you got two left feet.” 

Yugi muttered something like ‘yeah, thats true’. What Joey wouldn’t have given to see exactly what Yugi looked like right then. Squirming, blushing, tapping his toes together while he sorted through his cards.

“Don’t go changing the subject,” Tristan said pointedly to Joey. “And it’s your turn again, numbskull. Go.” 

“I ain’t changin’ nothin’. I don’t have a crush. I don’t even think he’s a friend, he’s jus’ mysterious is all.” Draw. Discard. “What Yugi has is a crush. An’ I don’t blame him, the girl is actually, really teachin’ dance. It ain’t jus’ her avatar or nothin’. It’s something.” 

“It’s weird.” 

“It’s different,” Joey defended. 

“Different doesn’t always mean good, Joe,” Tristan said. “Don’t you get that?” 

Yugi had gone quiet, fiddling with his cards, flicking the corners, and bending them as far as the pixels would let them bend. The little smile on his face, however somber, told Joey more than words could. Yugi didn’t really care what Tristan or him thought about Téa or how well he was able to dance. It was something else, something deep and weird that they thought only happened when they were experiencing, living with the most realistically rendered avatars and existing in a time and place where things were different. Where people sat on beaches together, or went hang-gliding—whatever that was. 

Pursing his lips, Joey tentatively asked: “Ya ever thought about seein’ her?” 

“I do see her.” 

“No, I mean _seein’ her_. Like headin’ to her place an’ gettin’ to know her personally. I’m sure her IP’s got a way of tellin’ where she is. I could look it up,” Joey suggested. “If she’s ever used a library, I could prolly find a way to trace her.” 

Tristan groaned, and followed it with an exasperated breath. “Look, Joey, I know you mean well, but don’t go doing something that’s gonna get you in trouble. That’s how you get bluelisters breaking down your door. I like you too much to see you getting arrested.” 

“Tris is right...” Yugi said. 

“Bluelisters ain’t real. If they were, then they would have booted me off already.” Joey looked around the chatroom, waiting for someone or something to come barging in. When they didn’t, he shrugged. “See? They ain’t real. Jus’ boogeymen.” 

Tristan and Yugi exchanged glances and shook their heads. The card game went round and round, up until Joey could barely keep his eyes open and his Portal threatened to idle him. He stirred long enough to catch Tristan and Yugi working on an Egyptian-themed puzzle, talking to each other about the girls they had been talking to. Or really, the ones that Tristan had been messaging while Yugi eschewed advice he never followed himself. He really should have; he’d be a good boyfriend. 

Eventually, Tristan logged off, and Yugi continued on the puzzle.

Joey shifted around and rested his head on his arms muttering, “‘M serious, Yug’.” 

“Hm? You awake Joey?” 

“Yeah...I was kinda eavesdroppin’ on you guys. Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, I figured you were tired.” The puzzle pieces scattered onto the table, and Yugi played with menus to save his progress before sweeping the extra into a black hole box. “You’ve been working a lot lately. Did you get those doubles you mentioned?” 

“Mmhm.” 

“Are you going to be okay there all alone?” Yugi asked. 

“I ain’t really alone; well, hopefully I won’t be soon. It’s about time for K-the guy to show up, I think.” 

There really wasn’t a system, Joey realised. Between the two visits, it had been two months, and now it was going on three. But it felt more like a year in between, counting the hours and days, shuffling his deck of cards until the edges began to split apart. He just hoped they weren’t too frayed, and he wasn’t too tired, by the time Kaiba decided to show up again. Plus, he still needed to watch that movie. 

“What did you mean that you were serious?” Yugi asked, waking Joey up again. 

Joey rubbed his eyes and stretched his back out. “About lookin’ up Téa’s IP.” 

“I can just message her.” 

“And how much is that gonna cost ya?” Joey asked. When Yugi didn’t answer, he nodded. “That’s what I thought. It’s too much since she’s doin’ that livestream or else ya woulda done it, wouldn’t ya?” 

“The livestreams aren’t that cheap,” Yugi said. “And there’s a bunch of guys trying to talk to her.” 

Joey knew that. “I paid for a livestream of a girl playing the piano an’ violin a long while ago,” he began, anxious to share. “She wasn’t really good, an’ that’s prolly why it was cheap, but the other chatters were obnoxious. I was too because up until then, it was the closest I’d gotten to a real person other than like, Serenity. I thought it was the greatest thing ever, better than porn, y’know. But then...I met K-the guy, an’ I realised the sorta thing I was missin’ out on.” 

“I don’t know.” Yugi chuckled. “I guess I’m scared.” 

“So?” 

“Maybe...maybe you and Tristan could go with me to meet her?” 

Joey blinked. “That would mean meetin’ up, ya know that right?” 

“Well you keep saying we should,” Yugi reasoned, and it didn’t take long for him to nod, settling a silent argument. “It might take a bit to convince Tristan, but I think he’ll agree eventually.” 

“I can’t say no to that!” Joey beamed. He hugged Yugi tight, ruffling his hair. “I can’t wait to finally see you guys! We’ll make a plan to meet up somewhere an’ take one of those fancy trains somewhere. I dunno where, we’ll have to look it up an’...an’...this awesome!”

Yugi laughed, and it made Joey laugh. 

—

After three weeks of doubles, Joey could safely say he hated every crack and chip in the store. The flickering of the lights and the buzz of the air conditioner as it cycled on and off. He wished it would just stay on, that way he didn’t have to wipe off the glass every hour or so. Though it did give him something to clean and focus on for a few seconds. 

During the day shift, he turned up the volume of the servers and nodded off. The owner wouldn’t know; enough beeping awoke Joey in time to divert customers. And sometimes he was awake enough to browse the Portal. Almost. But he knew if he did he would look up Kaiba’s name and their game would be over with. 

So he turned to looking beyond the storefront and through the shutters. There was a whole world out there. A world that Kaiba probably explored endlessly, saw up close and in person. What a life it must have been. Someone who had the kind of means and access—the likely unlimited supply of credits—where could he go and what could he do? How much had he gone through, what was his story? 

Purple clouds undulated outside. It was going to rain soon, thicken the smog and send the smog-junkies skittering. The air around Joey prickled, velvety and hot, and he forced himself to go lock the doors.

He clicked the lock shut and watched the rain fall. It gave him goose pimples, thinking about the grainy pictures on his newsfeed where smog-junkies stayed out in the rain until their skin sloughed off. They said it was painless. Joey didn’t really want to find out, but looking up at the oily, shimmery raindrops spurred him to sing-songed: “_I’m singin’ in the rain, oh jus’ singin’ in the rain....don’t remember all the lyrics...but I’m happy again._..” That had been a good movie. 

—

Late, very late, a knock stirred Joey. He looked to the video on his computer, _Singin’ in the Rain_ was playing, and paused it. The pounding got louder, and he scrambled when he realised the door was still locked. 

Hurrying over, he peered through the peephole where a set of deep blue eyes stared back. His heart hammered. “Password?” he asked. 

“Let me in or else.” Kaiba’s gravelly voice was as smooth as silk. 

He floated in when Joey opened the door, and he was quick to take his place in front of one of the screens. 

“No ‘hello’ or nothin’?” 

“You locked the door,” Kaiba said. 

“Yeah, well, it happens sometimes,” Joey replied. Without asking, he grabbed the folding chairs and set them up. Kaiba sat in one wordlessly, already knee deep in books and schematics. “Holler if ya need anythin’.” 

“Mm.” 

The pensive look on the brunet’s face bothered Joey. He couldn’t say why, Kaiba was always deep in thought, scanning through books and articles faster than he thought was humanly possible. But then, the greasy raindrops that sat on Kaiba’s shoulders and dribbled from his hair to his face bothered Joey, too. 

Joey retrieved an old washcloth from the bathroom and offered it. 

“That’s not necessary,” Kaiba said. 

“You got stuck in the rain.” 

“It’s just water.” 

The words trailed off and away, and Kaiba bowed his head as he brought up a video feed. He pulled it close, sinking his nails into his palms where he pretended to hold onto the video. In it, a boy with bushy black hair smiled and waved. It cut quickly to a building, shaking and wobbling. The picture was as terrible as his old movies. 

“Who’s the kid?” Joey asked. 

“He’s...”Kaiba sucked in a greedy breath. His composure broke for a millisecond, and his lips disappeared. He wiped his mouth and tucked his bangs back, but they flopped back into his eyes. Joey wondered how old Kaiba was in that instant. “His name is Mokuba.” 

“Who is he?” 

“You haven’t even figured who I am out yet,” said Kaiba. “Try that first before you start asking about others.”

“Alright, alright, yeesh.” Joey held his hands up defensively, but he kept watching. “He’s a cute kid. Looks like a real stinker.” 

The statement didn’t bait Kaiba, as hopeful as Joey was. The video reflected in his eyes, looped again and again, constantly rewound. This could have been the Holy Grail Kaiba was looking for. It wasn’t for Joey to decide what people wanted or needed to experience. He just looked out for them, and he proffered the washcloth when the tears in Kaiba’s eyes threatened to overflow. 

Kaiba shoved his hand away. 

Taking a hint, Joey went back to the booth. He tried not to look at Kaiba, but it was hard. Not because Kaiba was good to look at—he was—but because he didn’t usually see people so frustrated and vulnerable like they were in the movies. 

“So I got a pack of cards,” Joey said after Kaiba had watched the same video for an hour. “I dunno if ya know how to play, but...” 

Kaiba flicked the video onto his watch. “Of course I know how,” he answered. His voice was hoarse, but somehow smoother. “Do you?” 

“I play a lotta rummy. Gin. War.” 

“Hn.” 

“I’d say poker but we don’t have anythin’ to bet.” 

Kaiba’s shoulder’s drooped. “Something tells me you’re terrible at honouring your bets. And agreements.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Did you watch the movie?” 

Joey froze. “I tried,” he said._ Singin’ in the Rain_ was still paused on his monitor. “Every copy I found was kinda abandoned, an’ well...” 

“It’s not a scary movie.” 

“I din’t say nothin’ about bein’ scared.” 

Kaiba cocked a brow. “Neither did I.” 

Swallowing, Joey thumbed through the deck of cards and stammered, refusing to give in. Kaiba’s devious, not quite malevolent smile made him shake. “I ain’t scared. No way, no how. It was bad quality,” he lied. 

“It’s what you get for free.” 

Inching out of the booth, Joey planted down next to Kaiba. “I wanted to watch it. I tried a hundred times, I think. But the picture was small, or I came in the middle of it, an’ I figure if it’s somethin’ you’re recommendin’, I should watch it properly.” 

“Hmph. Excuses.” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“It’s not an attractive quality, just so you know,” Kaiba said flatly. 

What the hell did that mean? “Too bad, it’s true. An’ I wanna figure out who ya are on my own. Believe me, I’ve thought about lookin’ ya up, but that’s the weak way out.”

Maybe it was the oily rain gleaming on his cheeks, but Kaiba seemed to soften. He tapped away at the glass panes, flicking through what had to be a billion video files, before selecting one and throwing it across three of the panels. Before long, the black and white title screen appeared. All the while, Kaiba returned to his pile of books as if he hadn’t had a momentary lapse. 

“We watchin’ it?” Joey asked. 

“You are.” 

“Why?” 

“So you’re not so deprived of culture.” 

Joey stuck out his tongue and settled back. He didn’t really understand why Kaiba was doing this, but he wasn’t going to question it. He’d never seen the glass panes used this way before, and he was just trying to keep his jaw off the floor. A few minutes in, he got up and locked the door again. When he returned, he didn’t fix where the chair slid closer to Kaiba. The brunet didn’t see or mind that their knees were touching. 

Every so often, the blips of the servers summoned Joey away, but he always dashed back. He was enraptured by the film, leaning forward when it got quiet and jumping back when the action picked up. Sometimes Kaiba watched, but he mostly read or rewatched the video with his hand pressed to his chest. 

“So...ya like this mov-movie?” Joey stammered. 

“I appreciate it,” Kaiba replied calmly. “I suppose there’s a little nostalgia in it, too. I watched it a lot when I was a kid, so it’s familiar.” 

Joey nodded. “Makes sense. I used to watch _Escape from Yesterday_ all the time. Now that was a blockbuster; it ain’t like these old movies, it looks super real, y’know?” 

“Not really,” Kaiba said. “I’ve never heard of it.” 

“What? You’re crazy, it’s like the biggest thing ever,” Joey said, flabbergasted. “It broke all the records, made a ton of credits. It basically made Jean-Clause Magnum the biggest actor ever.” 

The absent, confused look never left Kaiba’s face. 

“You gotta be kiddin’ me! You don’t know who Magnum is either, do ya?” Joey asked, and he half a mind to grab Kaiba by the collar and shake some sense into him. But the genuine confusion stopped him. “What, were ya in a coma for a hundred years or somethin’? Not knowin’ _Escape from Yesterday. _Not knowin’ Magnum...you’re so weird.” 

“Hardly. I just have better taste.” 

On-screen, a hoard of zombies burst through, enough to make Joey skitter backwards. Before he toppled over completely, Kaiba caught him, twisting his hand in Joey’s shirt. He lurched forward and pressed against Kaiba’s shoulder. He muttered his apologies, readjusting himself. Once resettled, he flattened his palm against his knee and slipped his hand over, looping his pinky in Kaiba’s. 

They remained that way, silent and relaxed, until the end of the movie. Every so often, Joey would look away, but not towards Kaiba. He didn’t want to break the spell of whatever it was they were doing. He liked the soft inside of Kaiba’s pinky. The man must have never had to lift a finger in his life. 

By the end, Joey was as unsettled as he was interested. “I see why ya like it,” he whispered, finding his voice. “It’s different. Feels like it could be real, y’know? Like how some movies ain’t.” 

Nothing. 

Nothing but a soft breath of air. 

Beside him, Kaiba was slouched with his chin on his chest. And he thought the man was vulnerable before. This was a different person. A marionette with all its strings cut. He saw how exhausted and battered Kaiba was, his eyes sunk-in and bruised. There were shallow, grey scars on his neck and red splotches on his collarbones. 

“Ya look like ya ain’t slept in forever,” Joey whispered. He reached over and smoothed out Kaiba’s bangs. When his nose curled, Joey pulled away. “I guess...I guess I’ll let ya sleep. You’re here all night anyways.” 

Carefully, he unhooked from Kaiba and went to the booth. After fixing the servers, he returned and cupped Kaiba’s hand before it slipped off his lap. Warm. Warm, but shivering. Kaiba’s eyes and lips twitched, too, seizing until sweat dotted his forehead and he slackened in his seat. Joey moved to be a support beam, and he completely forgot about maintenancing the servers. He didn’t care. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a few things rolling in here, the question is how close will Joey get to finding out the truth? 
> 
> Does anyone have any guesses as to what’s going on with Kaiba? 
> 
> Tell me what you think!


	4. Or, an anonymous and open place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say for myself. It’s been crazy, I’ve been a little unmotivated, it’s getting better. 
> 
> Have chapter!

The sun half-roused Joey, not realising he’d fallen asleep. The other half roused from the flashing of the glass panes. They replayed the grainy video of the black-haired boy over and over. It was a short loop, barely enough to see the details in his face regardless of how big. Still, this close, Joey felt like he knew the kid through his little smile. It was sort of sad, like he knew something was about to happen, or was looking back at someone as if he was getting ready to leave. 

The next shots of the collapsing building—that’s all Joey thought it could be, with all that wobbling—confused him. A kid, and a collapsing building. It could have been an old news clip that was jammed together, but there was no ticker running across the bottom. No big logo, or watermark running down the side. No little ad playing in the corner, like his dad always told him. ‘Picture-in-picture, Joey. Imagine that, seein’ what was about to happen, like they were advertisin’ the news. Crazy, huh?’ 

Just a kid. And a building.

He wanted to know. So bad. 

Panicked, he suddenly realised the chair beside him was empty. He jumped up and spun, scanning the tiny storefront, before skidding to a stop in front of his booth. From beneath the steamed-up glass, he found Kaiba’s wiry frame hunched over his computer. 

“‘Ey!” 

Not a flinch. Joey rushed to the booth and threw the door open. 

“Hey, what the hell are ya doin’ in here y—,” 

“Purging information,” Kaiba snarled, his lithe fingers whizzing over the keyboard so fast, Joey thought something would break. 

“I said I’d do that, I’ll do it.” 

“I’m making sure it’s done properly.” 

“The hell? Of course it’s done proper. I do it right,” Joey said, balling his fists. “So get the hell outta my booth an’ let me take care of the purgin’. That’s the deal, a’right?” 

A few more key clicks, and the screens ran code faster than he could gather what they said. It didn’t look like that when he deleted all the searches Kaiba had done, but he didn’t think it was that severe, either. Looking out, the glass panes flashed blue before going through the motions of restarting, cycling through the logos, and finally returning to how he usually found them when he arrived. 

“Seriously man, I coulda done that,” Joey insisted. 

Kaiba shoulder-checked him to leave. “No, you couldn’t have.” 

“Says who?” 

“Says the credentials it takes to do a proper system purge,” Kaiba said, venomous. “Credentials I know you don’t have, or else you wouldn’t have such a dumb look on your face.” 

Joey’s brows scrunched, and he was two seconds away from decking Kaiba. “What’s your problem?” 

“I think it’s pretty clear.” 

“Spell it out, asshole.” 

Kaiba rolled his eyes and headed towards the door. Determined to get an answer, Joey rushed after him and stepped in front of him, stretching his arms out to cover the door. He barely had a second for breathe before Kaiba took handfuls of his collar and slammed him up against the metal slats on the door. Though there was no one to see, Joey was grateful he’d drawn the blinds—cameras wouldn’t see anything, either. 

“What’s—ngh—your problem?” Joey strained. 

“You.” 

The grip tightened, and Joey grabbed Kaiba’s bony wrists. That instinct to deck Kaiba remained, and his heart skyrocketed into his throat, wondering if maybe Kaiba was less sane than he originally thought. The smog had actually gotten to him, and he was really good at hiding it. Tristan was right; he was a sophisticated junkman, but it didn’t explain the watch, or the credits. Unless he had stolen them off of some other poor soul. 

No. 

His skin didn’t feel right. 

“Why? Did I do somethin’? Say somethin’?” Joey asked, his fingertips gently finding purchase on Kaiba’s wrists, investigating every inch he could manage. The bulbous joint and the fleshy underside. He rubbed against four sliver-like scars, two on each wrist, about an inch apart. The rest of the skin was well-kept, tender from oils or lotions. Every junkman Joey saw was wrinkly, covered in scabs and pale. Kaiba took care of himself, aside from the scars. 

“No.” 

“Then what?” Joey asked, pressing his fingers over Kaiba’s veins. His pulse was rabbit-quick.

The glare was enough to burn through Joey’s eyes, out of the back of his skull, and through the thick glass and steel on the door. But he didn’t falter, and after a few seconds, Kaiba looked to the floor and back up again, his animosity muted. “If I told you, then the game would be over.” 

“The game?” Joey asked, softening. His stretched his fingers up Kaiba’s forearms, beneath his shirt sleeves, drawing circles in the thin skin with his thumbs. “What, ya mean the bet?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then...what? It’s somethin’ about who you are then? If that’s the case, I don’t think whatever far-fetched hint you’re gonna give me would help.” 

Kaiba let go of Joey, and Joey took account of where all their hands landed. His were by his sides; Kaiba’s were laced together at his waist, the right touching the left and playing with the fingers. Namely, his pinky, pinching each of the joints. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. “You can’t be that stupid.” 

“Watch who you’re calling stupid, stupid.” 

Kaiba’s mouth twitched. His hands dropped to his sides. “I’ll be doing any and all data deletion from now on,” he said, firm. “If I even come back, that is.” 

“I don’t see why ya wouldn’t,” Joey said. “You slept like a baby here.” 

“That’s the problem: you let me fall asleep here.” 

“How is that my fault?” 

“It just is.” 

“It wasn’t part of our agreement! You jus’ wanted me to delete stuff. There wasn’t nothin’ about me wakin’ ya up if ya fell asleep. What does it matter?” he asked, desperately wanting to know what made Kaiba so angry. No, not angry. He was upset, he had to be, because he thrived on anger and this was something completely different. “Is there someone after you or somethin’? You gotta stay alert? ‘Cause that really is startin’ to support my spy theory, ya know.” 

A pause. A look away. A heavy breath before Kaiba cleared his throat. “I’m not a spy.” 

“But ya are bein’ chased, right? Or somethin’ like it.” 

“Something like it,” Kaiba repeated. 

Moving away from the door, Joey glanced out at the hazy day. No more rain or undulating clouds. A normal morning, without a person in sight. Whoever was chasing Kaiba would be easy to see, even in the smog. “Well, a’right then,” he said. “I won’t let ya fall asleep, we’ll make it part of whatever we got goin’ on.” 

“Hn.” 

“But show me how t’ do the purgin’ thing ya did, that way I can do it instead,” he offered. “You can get outta here faster that way.” 

Kaiba mulled it over, his lips thinning. “That’s fine,” he said, hesitant, “but not now. I should have been gone an hour ago.” 

He left before Joey could say, ‘then next time’. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but somewhere deep down, he wanted Kaiba to come back. He wanted to know what all Kaiba could show him, and how much he knew how to navigate through the Portal. He had to at least by-pass Joey’s log-in, which meant he knew how to manipulate the system. Scary, that someone knew how to navigate the Portal that way, under another name or avatar. But also freeing, he considered. That the internet could be such an anonymous and open place. 

—

Every day Joey went home, he booted up the Portal, but never put the headpiece on or logged in. He was too tired and confused to talk to his friends. Plus, he kept forgetting to look up Téa’s IP. Instead, he looked out the window. He looked for anything and everything, though his view was limited. He watched the wind and the fat, oily raindrops down his window. He watched birds flap by and linger on his window sill, pecking at the cement. 

Birds went everywhere. Where he didn’t see people or smog-junkies, he saw birds. They stood in groups, pecking at the ground and waddling around. And when something made a noise, or a delivery truck pulled up, they would scatter and disappear into the smog. 

At night, he dreamt of being a bird. He would open up the library door and jump into the street, but his feet wouldn’t touch the ground. Moments later, his head was above the fog, and the sky was as blue as he saw in old movies. He leaned back, his face to sun. He glided, watched the clouds, and made pictures out of the shapes.

When he glided like that, with his back to the ground, Kaiba appeared over top of him. They’d float together, and Kaiba would block out the sun. They’d get close, and their bellies would touch. Joey knew they were touching, but he didn’t know what it felt like. Sometimes, he pretended he knew, and he liked the weight against his body. 

He woke up sweat covered, breathless, and confused, with a tickle that never left his chest. He almost looked up what all those feelings meant, but he knew deep down. He didn’t want to know, but he knew. 

—

Going into work was a constant up and down of hoping for Kaiba to arrive and then having his hopes dashed. Joey knew better. A month was the norm, but his vivid dreams didn’t help. 

The seasons were waning. It was still hot, but less so, and the smog was thinner. The air conditioner clicked off less, and he had a better, constant view of the door. 

He gave up on the interior details. They were annoying. Even his booth and computer were getting old. He daydreamed more and more. Sixteen hours took a toll on his brain; he had that time to look up Téa’s IP, but he never got around to it. He walked the floor, opened the door and peeked outside when it wasn’t raining. He even dared himself to walk to the corner and back, nodding to the smog-junkie that was huddled in an alley up against a garbage incinerator. 

Other times, he stood right outside the library until sweat stuck his shirt to his back. The thinning smog made the skyline easier to see. Buildings rose up like jagged teeth—dull teeth, not fangs, though there was one pointed building far in the distance. 

KC. 

Those letters were everywhere. On Portal headpieces, on the glass panes. They owned the major newsfeed and advertised constantly. Some people, like Yugi’s grandpa, believed they owned the water and the air, too. Joey had brushed him off many times. No one owned air—they’d charge credits if they did. Whatever they owned or didn’t own, they were synonymous with everything. They made the world tick with their technology, and it was probably because of them that he had a job. 

He liked them for that. They were nice enough to have him work in person, at least through the owner. He wondered how many people worked in the big, corporate building then. It had a thousand windows, at least. Why have windows without people? All the rich people worked in that building; they got to be with other people, or maybe, like so many of the skyscrapers, it was another elaborate apartment building. The workers lived and worked there. Scary. Cool, to be around people, but scary. 

As the busy shift neared, Joey went back inside and forced himself to finally look up Téa’s location. 

Starting was the hardest part. It was going to take forever, and he didn’t know where to begin. He’d probably sold Yugi a lie, and as he tabbed through pages and pages of experiences and different server users, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for. Yeah, he had names, but all he knew was her first name and what sorts of experiences she might access. It was possible she didn’t even use their service specifically, so then he was going to have to go into a grandmaster list, which more or less felt like when he’d fill his sink with cold water just to shove his head in it. 

After a night of fruitless searching, he went home, collapsed on his futon, and logged into the Portal. 

Yugi and Tristan were already playing cards. Not rummy. It looked like Texas Hold ‘Em, but it used four cards. 

“Where’ve you been?” Tristan asked. 

“Workin’.” 

“Is that girl ever coming back?” 

Joey shrugged and watched them bet and fiddle with chips, clacking together. There were two more avatars listed under ‘invisible’, little silhouettes he only saw when they bet or threw down their cards. “She might. Dunno, don’t care. Never had this many credits in my life, so I’m happy.” 

“No point in having all of them if you don’t have time spend them,” Tristan said. He threw his hand in, and Yugi stayed intent on the other two opponents. “So you really want all of us to meet up?” 

“I mean, sure, why not?” 

“I’m just asking because that’s what Yugi said the plan was,” Tristan replied. “That’s only if we actually go see this chick, though.” 

“We will.” 

“Yeah?” 

Joey nodded, looking at his shoes. “I’ve been tryin’ to get her address. It’s no walk in the park, though. Ya know how many people use libraries?” Tristan shrugged. “Billions. It’s gotta be billions.” 

“There’s not billions of people, Joe.” 

“There’s basically that many.” 

Tristan snorted and threw in chips for the next round. This was more their game, and Joey watched with heightened interest. Poker had been the one game that piqued Kaiba’s interest. There was a chance, whenever he next showed, that they could play that. “Whatever. Fine. All 967 million people have accessed your library’s server.” 

Joey rolled his eyes. “Did ya really jus’ look up all the people on Earth?” 

“Yup.” 

“Jerk.” Laughing, Joey scooted closer. “Prolly like, a third of that, but it’s still a lot of people. I gotta weed her out somehow, ‘cause that’s what buddies do. Help other friends.” 

Tristan shoved all of his chips in, and Joey peeked at his hand with a raised brow. The invisibles threw their cards in. Yugi contemplated before doing the same, to which Tristan happily scooped up the chips. Several fell off the table, but reappeared on his stack before they hit the floor. Joey wondered what they sounded like if they did. 

Yugi finally acknowledged Joey, waving. “Wanna play?” 

“Nah, I’m good.” 

“Your loss,” Yugi said, dealing out. “You doing okay? You haven’t been around much.” 

“Tired, man. Tired. Having no luck, neither,” he said. “Ya wouldn’t have happened t’ have save any of her videos, would ya?” 

“No...that wasn’t worth it. It was a premium subscription, and I didn’t think I’d rewatch them,” Yugi replied. Joey snapped his fingers. “If you’re having that hard of a time, you don’t have to do it. It’s just us being silly.” 

“I wanna do it though.” 

“You know how much a train ticket it?” Tristan interjected. “For me to get to your place is like 400. To get to Yugi its 550.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t gotta come to me,” Joey said. “We just gotta all meet in one place. Prolly Yugi’s place, unless it’s cheaper to get to someone else. We’ll just go the cheapest way.” 

“Right, but it’s still going to be expensive. After we get to whoever’s house, we still have to get to Téa’s place,” Tristan added. “Which is gonna be at least another, let’s be nice, 600 prolly. A girl who can do streams like that has to live somewhere nice.” 

Joey raised a brow. “Like where? A big city?” 

Yugi nodded. “New York, Los Angeles. Maybe even...”Yugi paused, “somewhere international. New London, Paris. Dance is big in the Russian Federation.” 

“That would suck,” Joey muttered. “We can’t get to those places. It’s impossible.”

“I know.” Yugi sighed and flinched when one of the invisible players slapped the table. He made his bet. “If that’s the case, I don’t know what to do. We wouldn’t be able to get clearance to leave. Gramps said it used to be different, there weren’t so many clearances or health checks or anything, all you needed was a passport and you could go wherever, but...” 

“Man...” 

“You didn’t think about that, did you?” Tristan asked. 

“I jus’ figured if Yugi watched her, then she’s not all that foreign. I dunno.” Joey chewed on his cheek. “I guess she could be livin’ anywhere, and then all my searchin’ would be useless.” 

Dejected, Joey set his chin on his arms. 

Yugi bobbed his shoulders and offered a warm smile. “It’s okay, Joey. You tried.” 

“Hey, I ain’t givin’ up yet.” 

“But if it doesn’t pan out,...” Yugi mentioned. 

It probably wouldn’t. Finding her was hard enough, but the guys had given him an idea. Something to narrow down his search criteria, focus on addresses from large cities. That would still be a big list, but at least get rid of hopefully half, if not more. He had all the time in the world to sift through it. He’d do it. 

“Enough about me though, what about your mystery man?” Yugi asked. 

Joey covered his face with his arms. “Nothin’ new. Still won’t tell me who he is,” he replied, but the dreams flashed in his mind. His ears warmed. “Hey, I gotta go, I’m fallin’ asleep. Talk to you guys later.” 

He logged out before they could ask anymore questions. 

—

Coming into work near the end of the month, Joey was stalled outside the door. There were three people inside. They looked like people; they wore intricate suits with wires on them, with tinted shields covered their faces. Inside, it looked like they’re some kind of mask over their mouths and noses. On the back was the big KC logo. 

“What’s goin’ on here?” he asked, locking the back door behind him. 

“Maintenance,” Suit One answered. “Go to your booth and stay there.” 

Joey did as he was told. “What kind of maintenance?”

“That is privileged,” Suit Two said. 

They were probably people. The way they moved and talked sounded like people, but he didn’t see any skin. If KC had managed to make androids, that would be both interesting and disturbing. Would they be considered people? All of a sudden, he felt the need to go and watch Blade Runner. He hadn’t gotten the movie all that much, but it was entertaining. 

The suits said nothing else to him for several hours. They meticulously pulled up tiles and ran wires and tubes beneath it. The glass panes were pulled out and replaced. They barely looked different. A little thinner. 

Eight hours in, he’d hardly heard a blip from his computer. He nodded off, half-awake, half-dreaming, thinking that all the shuffling around outside was Kaiba, though Kaiba didn’t make as much noise as these suits did. He imagined Kaiba coming up to the booth and sticking his hand through the slot. Joey touched it, and when he looked up, Kaiba was unbuttoning his shirt. It peeled away from his sweat-slicked skin. He pulled Joey through the hole and let him fondle his breast and stomach. 

A suit knocked on the door. 

Joey nearly fell out of his chair. “What?” he demanded, clamping his legs closed where an erection tented in his trousers. 

“We need the service panel.” 

“The what now?” 

“The standard service panel. We need access beneath the building.” 

Perplexed, Joey looked around the tiny booth. He had a desk, a computer, and a chair. “Did ya try diggin’?” he asked. No response. “I dunno where it is. What’s it look like?”

“It’s a panel. It’s grey and on the floor.” 

Looking down, Joey inspected the tiles. He got on his knees and crawled under the desk. There, poking out a few inches, was a metal door that didn’t quite look like the rest of the tiles. Giving them a thumbs up, he unlocked the booth and let them in. They filed in and went down the hole, with Suit Three—or maybe it was One—standing guard. 

Joey turned his back to them, hoping his prick would settle down. 

“What’s all this about anyways?” 

“Maintenance,” Suit Three-One said. 

Sighing, Joey pressed his forehead against the moist glass. It was almost sunset. The sky was a hazy orange, and outside the storefront was a big truck with the KC logo. 

Whatever they were doing took time. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, watching the sky bleed from orange to grey to purple. In the dying light, he imagined Kaiba’s silhouette approaching the door. 

After another hour, the suits climbed out of the panel and filed out of the booth. They checked the panels, had him sign a digital clipboard, and left without a word or warning. 

As if nothing had happened, Joey went back to his chair and to the pings on the servers. Whatever they did hardly changed his computer. The only difference he could detect was a the little green light on the top of the monitor was working again. It had went out more than a year-and-a-half ago. All that for a light. 

—

He went back to work scrolling through the names and IP addresses. In several days, he’d managed to narrow down the searches to major metro areas, hoping his logic made any sense. It was still a lengthy list—hundreds of thousands. Each line blended together the longer he looked, and he’d blink a few times when they became a blur. There was a sizeable chance that he’d missed what he was looking for in bleariness. 

At least it gave him something to do. Tabbing page after page, name over name over number over name. 

The buzz of the door almost went unnoticed. Almost. He stretched his back until his vertebrae popped, and he tried to keep casual. “About time,” he said, minimising the lists. He wiped off the glass and drank Kaiba in. “Thought you were gonna be late this time.” 

Not a word. 

Joey went and grabbed the chairs from the bathroom and set them up. 

The brunet had a satchel slung over his shoulder today. It looked full and heavy, bulging until the latch nearly broke. One hand gripped the strap, the other touched the glass pane. His blue eyes reflected the bright screen that shimmered beneath his hand, drank it up childishly. His lips opened and closed, and when Joey said his name, he didn’t react. He tried tentatively touching Kaiba’s shoulder. 

Kaiba fell to his knees. 

“No...” 

Joey squatted next to Kaiba. “What...what’s wrong?” 

The veins in Kaiba’s neck were pronounced. His teeth gnashed, and his eyes went so wide Joey thought they’d fall out of his head. Without warning, he slammed his hands against the glass panes. Again. And again. And again. The Portal tried to boot, but Kaiba’s constant assault stopped it as it started, though it greeted him with a perky ‘_Welcome back, Mister Seto Kaiba_’ each time, replaying in a loop. 

Not knowing what to do, Joey threw himself around Kaiba. He held him close and refused to let go, even when Kaiba attempted to buck him away. “It’s a’right,” he murmured. “Whatever it is, it’s a’right...” No one ever told him a smog junkie suddenly lashed out. 

Kaiba settled. He leaned into Joey’s embrace, his nails sliding down the etched glass until they split. “They updated it,” he mumbled, nearly inaudible. 

“Huh?” 

“They updated it!” he shouted until his voice cracked. “Goddammit! They updated it.” 

“Who’s ‘they’?” Joey asked as Kaiba kept repeating ‘they updated it’. He felt the brunet panting, and moved so he could cup his hands against his mouth. Dramatic, but he wasn’t going to tell Kaiba not to be upset. It was strangely refreshing, and the heat radiating from his body, like his anger vented from his pores, was nice. “Hey, hey, it’s a’right, jus’...jus’ breathe,” he said. He searched his brain for a moment from a movie that could help him. “Talk to me. Tell me who they are.” 

Kaiba’s shoulder rammed into Joey’s sternum, knocking the breath from his lungs. He tumbled back, fruitlessly grabbing Kaiba’s shirt. He propped up on his elbows and watched as the brunet grieved. He pulled his fingers from his mouth, breathing on them and massaging his thumbs against his shaking fingertips. 

“I’m sorry,” Joey said. 

“You should be.” 

He enveloped Kaiba again, and this time Kaiba filled in the empty spaces between their bodies. He was stone-steady. Breathe in, breathe out. There was nothing useful Joey could say, but he figured words didn’t mean much. This was selfish, he knew that, but he hoped it helped, too. 

After so many minutes, a hand prodded against Joey’s leg. He offered his hand, and their fingers slid together. Every so often he felt a spastic squeeze, as if Kaiba couldn’t control himself. Tepidly, Joey kissed his temple. He didn’t know why, other than it felt right. For those few seconds, in that moment of breath, the spasming stopped. 

“KC,” Kaiba croaked. 

“KC what?” 

“They found me. They know I’ve been here.” Kaiba’s voice remained eerily even. 

“Why would they care?” 

Kaiba laughed mirthfully to himself. “You don’t know what KC stands for, do you?” 

Though Joey didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t. They ran so many ads, but he didn’t know, or just didn’t care to look. 

Uncurling from Joey’s body, Kaiba pulled himself forward and tapped his finger on the side of the panel. Joey leaned in close, refusing to take his arm from Kaiba’s waist. Right there, he saw the name in tiny, almost illegible white-grey lettering. 

_Kaiba Corporation, LLC. _

Guffawed, Joey shook his head. That didn’t sound right, he should have known that as soon as he heard Kaiba’s name. And then he tried to recall names of any executives or public figures, but nothing came to mind. Not from trivia or from public announcements or any other broadcasts. Just generic old men. Jokingly, he asked: “So, what, are you the president’s son or somethin’?” 

“I was,” Kaiba replied. 

Joey went numb. “O...kay. An’ you’re runnin’ away from him, but you’re also lookin’ for the kid. Do they have him?” 

“As far as I’m aware. They had Mokuba last I saw him.” 

“An’ when was that?” 

Weak, whistled laughter escaped Kaiba. “One hundred and six years ago.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *twilight zone music*
> 
> So...what’s up, you all think? The cats partially out of the bag, so any guesses for the details? Tell me what you think!


	5. Or, the real thing, in the real world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been rough. Here’s a long chapter

When Kaiba asked Joey for coffee, he was happy to oblige. He needed to think, and he spent the few minutes while the cup brewed wondering how Kaiba was 106 years old. At least 106 years old. He didn’t look a day over 25. 

When he came back, Kaiba sat motionless in the metal chair. He didn’t blink; he could have passed for junkman or android—anything but a living, breathing human. 

“It’s a little watery.” Joey nearly forced the plastic cup in Kaiba’s hand. “I haven’t used that machine in ages. The coffee might be spoilt.” 

“Expired.” 

“Same thing.” 

“Mm.” 

Kaiba sipped the coffee. His lips smacked and his nose curled, but he didn’t complain. In the meanwhile, Joey turned his chair backwards and sat in front of Kaiba. They watched each other for a few minutes. Though Joey had touched Kaiba’s skin and sweat, brushed up against him, even felt his heartbeat, he wondered if Kaiba was real. If his eyes were calculating because he was curious and thoughtful, or because he was manufactured that way. 

“So, I guess I gotta ask: how are ya that old?” Joey asked, leaning forward. 

“It’s a long story.” 

“We got all night.” 

“I shouldn’t stay the whole night,” Kaiba rebutted. “If they updated the panels, then they know I’ve been here. They’ll come looking for me.” 

“Right this second?” 

Kaiba’s shoulders fell. “Possibly.” He pinched the cup between both hands and brought it to his mouth but didn’t drink. 

“But ya haven’t left yet. Ya must think you’re kinda safe.”

Kaiba laughed sardonically. “I’m just not wasting the energy running or panicking.” 

“Then ya got a plan to get out of this.” 

“Almost.” 

Joey rested his chin on his arms, and he went back to watching Kaiba. Drinking and thinking. He almost smiled, even if the cogs whirring in Kaiba’s might mind be literal ones. It could have been wires for all he knew. Tiny microchips sending electrical pulses all throughout his body. 

“Are you a robot?” Joey asked. 

Kaiba snorted derisively. “What kind of question is that?” 

“You’re, like, 120 somethin’. I think it’s a fair question.” 

“129. Technically.”

“Oooh, technically.” 

Another drink. Kaiba’s lips were wet, and his moist bangs stuck to his forehead. “I’m not a cyborg, or a robot, or any sort of Philip K. Dick allusion you’re going to come up with,” he said, “but it’s close to that.” 

“So ya are made of wires?” 

Kaiba rolled his eyes. “If you count nerves for their electrical output. No, it’s...”his lips reared up, almost like a smirk. “How much history do you think you know? The last century or so?” 

“It wasn’t really my best subject. It was sorta the thing I skirted by, y’know? But everyone did. It was mostly just click some buttons, make sure you were payin’ attention.” 

“You did it at home?” Kaiba asked. 

“Yeah. Didn’t you?” 

“Not originally.” Kaiba looked down into his cup before throwing back the rest of the coffee. ”There used to be a time where you’d actually see people outside, in schools or they’d go to stores, parks, theatres. Libraries.” He looked Joey in the eye. “Not fake, trashy libraries like this, either. I’m sure this idea started out as ingenious and then became another one of Gozaburo’s playthings. Dement the minds of the masses; keep them docile.” 

The way Kaiba talked, how much he talked and how focused he was, chilled Joey. It sounded rehearsed, like he was waiting for someone to ask him about all this. 

Like he’d spent years perfecting it. 

“I know that goin’ out used to be a thing. My dad told me the stories his dad told him. An’ sometimes my friend’s grandpa tells those wild stories too, but he’s old as dirt. Not as old as you. Technically.” Joey couldn’t resist the opportunity. “He tells me how they used to travel all over in big airplanes. To the African States and Asia. He showed me a picture of this ancient passport he had once.” 

“They never told you why you can’t travel anymore.” 

“I know why ya can’t. Ya gotta pass a health check, but ya gotta do it in person, an’ there’s no way that you’re gonna pass if ya do that, ‘cause ya get toxic air in your lungs.” 

“They make sure you fail.” 

“That’s what some people say.” 

“Do you believe it?” Kaiba prodded. He crushed the empty cup between his palms. 

“I dunno,” Joey replied. “Want me to make more coffee?” 

“I’ll do it.” Kaiba stood and went to the back. “Think about my question.” 

There wasn’t much to think about. Did he believe that they made sure he failed a health check if he left the house? Maybe. He had almost failed trying to work in-person, but he begged the owner, and he told the man how close he lived and that he could clean up. He’d never actually tried to get a passport, though. Everyone told him it was impossible, and if people would get sick if they went outside for long periods of time, why would he travel? 

Then again, he wanted to travel to see Yugi. And Tristan. Even Téa, and he didn’t know her. 

Kaiba returned with a steaming cup, the liquid noticeably darker. 

“I think it’s not safe out. That’s why they don’t want us to travel, ‘cause we’ll get sick,” Joey answered. 

“Sick with what?” Kaiba asked. 

“Smog.” 

“Smog. As in the air?” 

“I...guess.” 

“You haven’t even thought about it, have you?” 

“There’s nothin’ to think about. It makes ya sick!” Joey inched the chair closer. He could reach his foot out and graze the toe of his shoe against Kaiba’s leg. That had been one of his fantasies, but they weren’t wearing shoes or pants then. “It’s just what everyone’s told me. An’ sometimes when I’m outside a while, I get dizzy or cough a little.” 

“It’s called allergies. And you’re dizzy because you’ve sat down all day and now you’re up, it’s hot outside, and your body has to regulate the temperature to deal with warmth you’re not used to,” Kaiba said. He wasn’t aggressive, though he was impatient. He had to finish his rehearsed lines, but Joey probably wasn’t giving him the answers he wanted. “I’ll say you’ve impressed me in one way.” 

“Oh, this outta be good.” 

Kaiba kicked Joey’s shin. “You’re actually outside, somewhat. You’ve acclimated. You won’t die of Vitamin D deficiency like some of these morons.” 

“Did ya have to kick me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Kick me then compliment me. Yeesh.” Joey rubbed his shin with his heel. “Send me mixed signals why dontcha?” 

“I’m not here to amuse you.” 

“Well, too bad. You’re a little too interestin’ Mr. One Hundred Years Old, Pavlov-Dog Man.” 

A grin appeared on Kaiba’s face, as it did in flashes. He hid it behind the rim of the coffee cup, and swallowed it after several long seconds. 

“What’s any of this gotta do with you bein’ technically ancient? Or people chasin’ ya?” 

“Nothing and everything,” Kaiba said. “There’s several reasons Kaiba Corporation wants me so badly. One is because I’m one of the last living healthy specimens from before what this generation calls ‘The Brown Plagues’ or ‘The Dust Sickness’. If they even teach you about it, which it seems they don’t.” 

“Dust...Sickness.” Joey slowly shook his head. “Sounds made up.” 

“So does toxic air and water, but you seem to believe it.” 

“I...” Joey almost said he didn’t, but as he looked outside and back at Kaiba, he knew that he worried about the oily raindrops, and the thick, haziness of the air. “I dunno what to believe, I just don’t want to drop dead of Sloth Sickness or become a junkman. I’m livin’ my life just fine.” 

“Without seeing other people? I see the way you look and interact with me. You’re curious, and you’re attached,” Kaiba said, and a little softer he added, “as am I.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Unfortunately,” he replied sharply. “Unlike you, I haven’t had a choice. The closest person I had was Mokuba.” 

“You’re talkin’ about the kid.” 

“Yes.” 

Joey slackened, bracing his hands in his knees. “Who is he?” 

“My little brother. I miss him, and I know he’s alive, but for the longest time I didn’t know where.” Kaiba bit his thumbnail. “They’d wake me up at random intervals to poke and prod me, and when they would compare data, they’d mention him, but I couldn’t ask any questions. They’d do their tests and put me on ice again.” 

“You were frozen,” Joey said. After a second, it all clicked: “You were frozen! Like that Crawford guy they found!” 

“Crawford?” Kaiba perked up. “You mean Pegasus Crawford?” 

“Yeah. Him.” 

“They found him?” 

“Yeah. Somewhere...Los Angeles, San Francisco? Somewhere or other.” 

Kaiba’s eyes darted back and forth. “So he’s also alive...”he murmured. 

Though Joey thrummed with excitement, connecting all the little hints and puzzle pieces together, he was left with more questions than answers. He waited for Kaiba to come out of his thoughtful trance and tell him more. Instead, Kaiba set the cup at his feet and folded over, resting his forehead against his knit fingers. 

“Is the coffee makin’ ya sick?” 

“No.”

“Are ya okay?” 

“Fine, just thinking.” 

“Wanna...share with the class?” 

“It means I’m not alone,” Kaiba said. He lifted up. “Mokuba and I aren’t the only ones that survived. I didn’t imagine we were after all of Gozaburo’s ridiculous suggestions and implementations of my inventions, but after a while I decided to worry about just me and Mokuba. But there are others, which means that they might be keeping them somewhere. Maybe nearby, and if they are....” 

Kaiba jumped up and went to Joey’s terminal, typing away. 

“Woah, woah, ya lost me. At everythin’. Plagues, bein’ frozen, you bein’ chased,” Joey said. “Give me the short version at least.” 

“Not now.” 

“C’mon! Ya jus’ told me all this shit an’ you’re gonna leave me hangin’?” 

The question fell flat. Whatever possessed Kaiba kept a tight grip on him, and he clicked through screen after screen. After so long, Joey sat back and watched the master at work. 

The information overwhelmed Joey. There were too many questions and not enough answers, and the only thing he knew for sure was that there was some kind of big sickness, maybe one hundred years ago, and Kaiba was a ‘healthy specimen’. He didn’t have the sickness, so they kept him frozen. But he didn’t see what that had to do with travel, or why there were junkmen, or smog, or why the air was hot. Why people didn’t see each other in person, feel their skin, smell their breath and hair. 

He knew one thing though: Kaiba had described them as ‘attached’. He must have had the same sheepishness as Joey about it. Maybe the same vivid, intimate thoughts. He believed that Kaiba had those same dreams, and that left Joey more confused than any of the crazy, world-changing nonsense that Kaiba didn’t care to elaborate on. 

The air conditioner clicked on. 

His computer blipped, and he reached between Kaiba’s chest and arm to tap a button on the keyboard. Kaiba’s hand landed on his and squeezed. 

Attached. 

—

Throughout the night, Kaiba drank coffee and decompressed into Joey’s chair. He swivelled back and forth and his knees bounced against the underside of the desk. He’d taken his shoes off. 

Joey told him to hit the buttons every once and a while. He taught Kaiba the sequence he needed to open a new server. After an hour, Kaiba did it mechanically, without maneuvering out of whatever window he was in. The same images popped up every once and a while; Mokuba and the building. The images all the blurred together, and as Kaiba went faster and faster, Joey sunk into the chair behind him and drifted asleep. 

He dreamt of a world where big planes flew close enough to cast wide shadows. The air was as cool as the fan in his room and came in long, soft breezes. It smelled like burnt coffee, sweat, and flowers. He didn’t know what flowers smelled like, but he’s seen it in movies where girls got flowers and sniffed them. He walked down a long road with shops dotting each side. It was monochrome, a little bland, but every feature was familiar and warm. A few old ladies strolled in their gingham dresses and tight-curled hair, walking dogs and pushing babies in strollers. Men wore slacks with rolled up sleeves and suspenders, and had a tablet under their arm to read later. He went by a window selling small, hand-held panels, that played a Jean-Claude Magnum movie, though he didn’t know which one. 

In his dream, he was looking for someone. He forgot who. All the faces around him were plain and unassuming. Nobody he knew. He stood against a lamppost on a corner as angular bodied cars drove by. Everyone said hello. He checked his watch but didn’t remember the time, and he said to himself: “Hope Kaiba ain’t too late. He better not have gotten frozen again.” 

Joey’s eye fluttered open. The bright lights of the library came back. 

Six cups were lined up neatly on his desk. The sun was up; Kaiba was gone. 

Of course he was. It was time for Joey to go home too, and he was going to have a hell of a time getting back to sleep. He’d be a zombie when he came in later. Maybe he’d watch _Night of the Living Dead_ again. That would keep him awake. 

Joey stretched until his ribs groaned, and he went to log out for the day. Before he could, the screen fizzled to a static screen with a pop-up prompt that said: 

||…_Read Me Joey_....||

He clicked it, wary. 

_I left because you were asleep. I didn’t see the point in waking you up, you looked too comfortable. Here’s what’s important: _

_1 - I found what I was looking for. I can’t collect it today, not as compromised as I am. I’ll be back in four days, so be ready. _

_2 - All the data has been purged. Make sure you delete this message ENTIRELY. _

_3 - I noticed that you were doing people searches. You were doing it in the most ridiculous way possible. I did a mass compile using your search perimeters and found three possible matches and sent it to your Portal. _

_4 - Get more coffee. _

-Seto 

Joey read it three, four, five times. Each time he started to delete it, he hesitated. He would remember everything, that wasn’t the problem. It was something about the message that made his insides flutter; Kaiba had taken the time to write it because he didn’t want to wake Joey up. He wouldn’t have minded if Kaiba shook him awake, but this was okay. Then there was the ‘Seto’ at the end. It rolled off Joey’s tongue. He knew it was Kaiba’s given name, but it was too foreign, too personal. He never knew when Kaiba would come back, and he didn’t want to make it real. 

But it was real. In four days, Kaiba would come back. 

With a few clicks, he sent the note to his Portal. After, he deleted it from the library’s servers. 

—

Her name was Téa Gardner. She was 21 years old, and lived on the outskirts of New York City, doing streams out of her three-room apartment. Her streaming experiences were usually twenty minutes, with one ad break in the middle. Joey spent a few credits to get a good look at her. She was lithe and flexible, and based on all the thumbnails in her premium subscription archive, she had exactly seven different leotards, one for each colour of the rainbow, and she wore the same colour on each day of the week. Joey knew that because he’s paid the 15 credits to see her whole archive and all of her information, and he didn’t let those credits go to waste. 

After, he logged into the chat. Yugi was working on his puzzle again. 

“Hey, I got somethin’ to tell ya,” Joey said, falling into a chair. He scooped up a handful of pieces and looked around. “No Tris?” 

“Nope. He hasn’t been on in three days.” 

“Weird.” 

Yugi shrugged. “I think he’s trying that cold turkey challenge he was talking about last week.” 

“Yeah, right.” Joey clicked his tongue. “He won’t last a week outside of the Portal. He likes to look up all sorts of crap. I don’t know what he’s gonna do if he can’t do that. Prolly lose his mind.” 

“Or join the Junkman’s Cult.” 

Joey chuckled, but it died quickly. How many times had he and Yugi joked about these sorts of things, or had little debates about how sick and crazy the air made the junkmen? There was never an actual resolution. Sometimes he dissented just because it was funny to be the asshole that disagreed. Now, though, he questioned it. “Is it bad if he doesn’t wanna come back?” Joey asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Say Tris never logs in again, jus’ does whatever he’s doin’ after this challenge...what then?” 

Yugi looked good his lap, smiling and shrugging. “It’s not that serious. Besides, he’s going to post it online once he’s done. He thinks if he makes it a week, he’ll get a lot of credits from sponsors and ads.” 

“If he does, good for him, but,” Joey sighed. He didn’t want to go down this road. “Is it bad if he wants to never come back? If he wants to become a junkman; we think junkmen are bad, but they jus’ don’t think the smog makes them sick. What if they’re right? What if we’re the wrong ones an’ someone’s been feedin’ us a bunch of bullshit to keep us inside?” 

Yugi’s eyes widened as big as his avatar would let him. He looked cartoonish. “What are you talking about, Joey?” 

“I mean...what if we aren’t told everything?” 

“They wouldn’t lie to us. You’ve seen how smog junkies act in your store.” 

“Yeah. An’ I also work in the store, too. I go outside. I like it, Yug’. I’ve liked talking to Kaiba in person. It’s been so—,” 

“Kaiba?” 

Joey stalled. He closed his first around the puzzle pieces and thought he’d crush them, but they didn’t have any sharp edges cutting into his skin. They dissipated and reappeared in their original pile on the table. 

“Yeah. Kaiba. Seto Kaiba. He’s the guy that’s been comin’ to the library about once a month,” Joey said, dejected. He hadn’t meant to let it slip. “So now ya know.” 

Quietly, Yugi laid a few more puzzle pieces before letting his hands fall into his lap. He was smart; he knew who, or what, Joey was referring to without having to look it up, but he didn’t doubt that Yugi was doing some quick research in his silence. So Joey put together the puzzle and waited for Yugi to lift his head. 

“He’s supposed to be dead,” Yugi said first. 

“They froze him, like that Crawford guy. That’s what he said. Him and his brother, but I dunno how much I should be tellin’ ya.” 

Yugi sighed. “I won’t tell anyone.” 

“I know ya won’t. It’s not about that, it’s jus’ that he didn’t trust me. He says there’s people after him, an’ whether that’s true or he’s crazy, I don’t wanna betray him. I made a deal,” Joey said. “I ain’t gonna break it anymore than I already have.” 

“That’s sweet.” 

Joey’s cheeks warmed. “Whatever.” 

“Just don’t get hurt,” he advised. 

“Why would I get hurt?” Joey asked. “It ain’t like he’s gonna do nothin’ to me. If anythin’, he should be worryin’ about me rattin’ him out.” 

“Because he might be lying to you. The thing with Pegasus was probably a fluke,” Yugi said, his squelch voice almost dire. “The reason it was such big news was because the lab that had originally frozen him had been blown up.” 

“Why would anyone do that?” 

“I don’t know. They think it might have been some terrorist group who didn’t think that the natural order needed disrupted. Apparently a lot of people were getting frozen back then.” 

“They thought it would help ‘em,” Joey said slowly. He licked his lips, tempted to tell Yugi about the plague-thing Kaiba told him about. There probably wasn’t information, or if there was, it was expensive. He decided not to. “Live through whatever they didn’t wanna live through then.” 

“Could have been a fad,” Yugi suggested innocently. 

Joey didn’t know what was true. Sickness or fad. All he thought of was the video of the building exploding. That could have been where Kaiba and his brother were originally frozen, and that’s all Kaiba had to go off of. 

“Yeah. Either way, he says he’s been frozen. But he is a Kaiba,” Joey asserted. “He’s got that unlimited access thing, so even if he ain’t Seto—,” 

“He probably isn’t.” 

“—I’m gonna think he is. He likes old movies an’ doesn’t go on the Portal an’ likes to play cards, too.” 

“He does?” Yugi asked.

“I think so. He says he could play poker, so we could all play one day,” Joey said, and added, “in person.” 

Yugi chuckled. “Okay, okay. We’ll all play poker with the Portal creator himself one of these days. That’ll make for some good trash talk while we’e bluffing.” 

Portal creator? 

Joey faltered but bit his tongue. He didn’t want to pester Yugi for anymore information, not when he could look it up himself; better yet, he could ask the source in a few days. He was overloaded enough, and had almost forgotten the original reason that he’d come to talk to Yugi in the first place. 

“Hey, I got some good news for ya,” he said after his ears stopped ringing. 

“Oh?” 

“I found Téa. Her last name’s Gardner, an’ she’s in New York,” he said. “So we can get to her here soon.” 

Puzzle pieces fell to the floor. “No way!” Yugi exclaimed. 

“Yes way! Got an’ address an’ everythin’,” he beamed. “I did the hard part, so when Tris gets back online, will ya convince him we’re goin’ here soon?” 

“Sure. Absolutely.” Yugi nearly melted in his seat, and little hearts popped above his avatar. “I’ll get all the logistics together, see where we should meet up, what trains we’ll take, what station we’ll meet in. Oh, this is gonna be awesome.” 

“You bet. Can’t wait to see ya.” 

Yugi went around the table and embraced Joey. He felt something against his chest and arms, some physical response he knew he was supposed to feel, but it wasn’t the same as the real world. It wasn’t the same as feeling Kaiba’s weight crash against his body and his heat bleed into Joey’s skin. It wasn’t the same rough yet gentle balance, and he noticed where their pixels clipped together at the edges. The illusion broke. 

He said good-bye, logged out, and laid back with the headset on his chest. 

—

Joey had a hard time parting with credits. He thought that when he opened his door and had three packages laying at his feet. He’d finally gotten around to buying a new pair of sneakers, because if he was going to be seeing his friends in person, he needed new shoes. It wasn’t just the shoes, though, even if the sky blue stripe had sold him. He’s bought four other things: an olive green sports jacket, two cake scented candles (not that he knew what ‘cake’ would smell like), a box of coffee pods, and a batch of plastic flowers. 

He spent two whole afternoons plucking them from the interconnected stem. It was lilies, roses, daffodils, two sticks of baby’s breath, and some greens. He looked up pictures of flowers in paintings from the 1800’s, and he arranged them in his hand as delicately as he could. Some of the stems were plucked too short and refused to stay with the bunch. 

When he was satisfied with his creation, he put them in a tall drinking glass from his cupboard, knowing it’d have to suffice, and he took it with him to work. For the first time, his desk had colour. He nudged the keyboard back and made room for the candles. Perfect. Picturesque. He was sad he didn’t have a headset on-site to take a picture with. He didn’t know what he’d do with a picture. Upload it to some dating chatroom, probably, see what people thought of his displays of romanticism. They’d call him lazy or old-fashioned. If he really cared about someone, he’d buy an experience paddling down Venetian canals or riding horses beachside in Southeast Asia, weaving beneath old, vine-covered bungalows. 

He’d looked at those experiences so much in three days that he was inundated with ads for luxury marriage packages and honeymoon getaways. No papers required, they said. Meet face-to-face in total privacy, they touted. Because generally, if you wanted to get married, you’d talk in chatrooms for a little while and, if you felt right, you’d send your data to some matchmaking service to determine if you were suited for each other. That’s how his old man met his mother; it’s how Yugi’s parents got together. Dating, romance, marriage, and honeymoon, all with a click of a button. 

Kaiba wouldn’t appreciate that. He probably knew about, because he knew everything, but that wasn’t from his time period. 

The day Kaiba said he’d show, Joey read up on his generation. About how you’d watch shows that were taped live, just like his old movies, instead of podcasts or radio plays. You’d stream the shows to boxes mounted on walls. You went to see movies in big theatres with friends or family or your date and you’d sit, shoulder to shoulder, talking to each other about the movie until others shushed you. He’d had that happen in a few times when he tried to talk to strangers watching movies with him, but they mostly shushed him when he laughed too loud. They road in buses, cars, planes, and trains everyday. He knew this, but the more he looked into it, the more he thought about trying out a race car experience again. That wasn’t what driving was about though; it was going from one place to another, or going on long road trips for vacation, or even gliding down switchbacks like in the old car ads. Hell, he’d have been okay idling in traffic, just to hear the engine whirring and feel the steering wheel shudder beneath his hands as he shifted gears. 

He read up on all the things Kaiba mentioned, and more. Everything he read up on made his head spin, and he stopped keeping track of how many credits he had as he went down the rabbit-hole. He was conscious enough to set aside a few credits, maybe 700 or so, to make sure he could get to Yugi and Tristan. 

His favourite was the amusement parks. They were a treat to look at, and he imagined getting strapped into a rollercoaster or a tilt-a-whirl. He’d probably barf on the real thing. He’d gotten close when his mother let him and his sister spend a day experiencing all those things. The real thing, in the real world, with stiff wind in his face and the straps tight against his chest? He was breathless thinking about it, and as he drifted off into daydreams about it, he imagined Kaiba beside him. Though Kaiba didn’t seem like the person who enjoyed amusement parks, he’d definitely been to one. He had a little brother, so of course he had. 

Then, as the sky turned orange and pink, and Kaiba’s arrival time fast encroached, Joey shifted gears. He finally looked Seto Kaiba up. 

_**Seto Kaiba** (born October 25th, 1999) was a Japanese-born American software developer, inventor, and business magnate. He is best known as the developer of the first-generation Portal application, using the now defunct prototype technology of SolidVision, a precursor to the existing haptic technological designs of induced-augmented virtual reality (iAVR). He held the position of chief technology officer (CTO) within Kaiba Corporation under his adoptive father, Gozaburo Kaiba. He had a history of ultra-liberal views of technological singularity, global warming, and ecological preservation. He died suddenly of illness on March 27th, 2022. _

_Click here to buy more information...(?)_

The buzz of the door opening stopped Joey from clicking the link. He swivelled forward and pulled on his the lapels of his sports coat, sweating in it but excited to make a good impression. He flashed a big smile. 

That all vanished as Kaiba staggered through the door. 

His shoes and pants were torn and splattered with mud and a frosty substance. Something he hoped wasn’t blood was splattered across his stomach and lap, and it dripped off his knuckles and nails. He cradled a naked and disheveled boy—no, teenager—in his arms. He was wrapped lamely in a thin sheet, his stark-white skin and bushy black hair covered in the same frosty substance. Mokuba. 

“What the—!” Joey rushed out and stopped Kaiba from advancing, holding his shoulders and then his arms when his grip seemed to buckle. “I got ‘em, I gotcha.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Yeah, right. Is that blood?” 

“Yes.” 

He tried to take Mokuba from Kaiba’s arms. Possessively, the teen was crushed into the brunet’s chest, and he stumbled his way to the booth before placing Mokuba in upright in the chair. He slumped against the desk. 

“What the hell’s going on?” Joey asked. 

Kaiba had disappeared into the bathroom before Joey could finish the question. He hesitantly bobbed between the brothers, not wanting to leave a nearly stark-naked and unconscious teenager by himself. But the blood worried Joey more. It was all over his palms just from touching Kaiba. Frenzied, he threw his new coat over Mokuba and went to the bathroom. 

Inside, Kaiba was trying to wash blood from his nose and mouth with little avail. It kept bleeding. 

“Side effect,” he answered before Joey asked. 

“I wondered what bein’ frozen might do to ya,” he said. He found a dry rag and offered it. “Is the kid okay?” 

“For now. He still hasn’t fully woken up, nor do I know if he will.” 

“You woke up though.” 

“It’s not an exact science.” Kaiba tilted his head back and pinched his nose. He’d cleaned up as much as he could, but the sink was smeared with red. “Cryobiology was barely accepted in my time and doesn’t seem to be any better now. They’ve managed sustainability, but any science other than information technologies is stalled. What a surprise. The world’s just like I left it.” 

“Ya...didn’t like bein’ frozen, then?” 

“It wasn’t my choice. I think I made that pretty clear.” 

“So what happened? Your page says...” 

“Great, you’re reading drivel.” 

Joey frowned. “It’s all I got to read. It’s mainstream, I gotta trust it.” 

“You don’t have to do anything other than think for yourself!” Kaiba roared. He threw the rag into the sink and shivered. “It told you I died, too. Do you think that’s true?” 

“I...I dunno,” Joey said. “You feel pretty alive when I touch ya. I figure zombies are all scaly an’ wrinkly. Their skin’s fallin’ off like the junkmen.” 

Everything felt too close to be real. It took all Joey had to keep calm and together, but Kaiba was fluctuating being angry and uncertain. He was still bleeding, and growing paler. Whatever reservations he had about the things that Kaiba said, he had to put aside. He was alive, standing in front of Joey. He was bleeding, and humans bled. They slept, they ate, they sweat, and they were warm to the touch. 

“It’s hard to get through this, okay? You’re tellin’ me everythin’ I read, everythin’ everyone tells me is a lie. An’ ya didn’t even tell me everythin’ anyways! Ya went to work on the computer and then you were gone, so...” Joey helped Kaiba as he stumbled about. They went back to the booth. “Tell me everythin’ ya can. Give me a hand here. I read about ya bein’ the tech-whatever at KC, an’ that you were the one who designed the Portal. So start there.” 

Kaiba exhaled, but didn’t reply. He took off his watch and wrapped it around Mokuba’s wrist as tightly as it could go. The boy was rail thin. “The original designs were based on VR technology for gaming. That’s what I was working on before the viruses happened. It was a personal project, but once Gozaburo got his hands on it, he did everything he could to further his pursuits.“ 

“Which was what...? KC does tech stuff, games ain’t gonna make or break nothin’.” 

“I gave him an out,” Kaiba replied. “It’s complicated and would be more nuanced than you could understand. And no, that’s not an insult. There’s so many tangential lines, political policy, economic policy, ecological policy, humanitarian issues, it doesn’t matter. You could argue one caused the other; it probably did. The turning point was the viruses. At the start of the outbreak, there was a lot confusion and chaos fuelled by dogma online and fear-mongering from news outlets, politicos, big-name companies. For years, Gozaburo had been buying up pieces of these companies, and he had a lot of friends in high places. He used the chaos to get richer, essentially, either by leveraging policies for business or making promises he wouldn’t fulfil. The viruses were a good diversion.” 

“And he used your gaming thing?” Joey asked, uncertain. Though he was invested in the explanation, he was blanking out. 

Mokuba twitched and writhed. His candle-like fingers formed small fists. Kaiba tapped the watch face and scrolled through screens full of vitals. Heart-rate, oxygen levels, blood pressure. Joey sat on the opposite side of Mokuba and kept him steady as Kaiba dressed him in the coat. 

“Yes and no. He convinced everyone that investing in entertainment was vital. People were forced inside for their safety; they didn’t want to get sick. ‘They need a distraction’ he said, and he wanted me to spearhead it. I was hesitant, I saw how the world was going. While everyone was inside they were spraying the streets with gas to clean it, but people weren’t getting better. Hospitals were full; morgues couldn’t keep up, some people just stayed at home and died.” 

“That’s awful.” 

“But I gave them a diversion. Mokuba said people needed to be happy and enjoy what time they had together,” Kaiba said. He twisted the sheet around Mokuba’s waist and cinched it. “So I relented. I bargained with Gozaburo to start funding eco-friendly solutions and to leverage the gassing procedure that clearly wasn’t working for something more sane. He sold me a lie. He—,” 

Loud banging startled Joey. He poked up from the booth and wiped off the condensation. A dozen men in black suits and helmets stood outside, banging on the windows and shaking the metal slats. 

“Shit!” Kaiba exclaimed. 

“What—? Who the hell are these guys?” 

“Who do you think?” 

“I don’t know! Deliverymen?” Joey said, backing up against the desk. “Did you lock the door?” 

“Yes!” 

“Why?” 

“Because I’m being chased, goddammit!” Kaiba’s nose started bleeding again. “I lost them a few hours ago, but I don’t...I don’t know how they found me.” 

Glass shattered. The Suits filed in, and Kaiba closed the booth door. 

“Fuck...” Kaiba picked Mokuba up and pressed him against his chest. “There’s got to be a way out of here.” 

“I don’t....I dunno!” 

“Think.” 

“I. Don’t. Know. I’m not good under pressure!” Joey crab-crawled against his desk, shoving his chair out of the way. He was so scared he couldn’t feel his hands when they hit the floor. It was cold, not like tile, and dug into his skin. 

The service panel. 

“Do ya trust me?” Joey asked. 

“What?” 

“I know a way out, but ya gotta trust me.” 

“Of course I do! Show me.” 

Shoving his chair out the way, Joey crawled under his desk and twisted the panel open. He slid into the corner, holding the chair out of the way. “Go.”

Without hesitation, Kaiba threw himself and Mokuba down the hole. It was dark and cool. The suits were banging down the booth door and cracking through the bullet-proof glass. Joey crashed into his chair, knocking the candles and glass of flowers off his desk. They fell down the hole. 

Shaking, breathless, Joey chucked himself down the hole, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I....had full intention of the causes of this world being a mixture of global warming and a virus destroying it, long before our actual pandemic hit. I tried not to make it sound too close to the real world, but it’s kind of happening. I’m sorry, but I’m not. Tell me what you think!


	6. Or, going against the grain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, enjoy the end.

The tunnel was long and narrow, with wires and pipes running on every surface. Dim lights hung every few hundred feet, and Joey hugged the wall to keep himself upright. He followed Kaiba’s outline, far and away from him, and probably not thinking that Joey was following at all. 

“Hey!”

Kaiba stopped, looked over his shoulder, and then kept going. Jerk. 

Joey carefully navigating the pitfalls and picking up pace. “Hey, wait up!” 

The tunnel was moist and chill, the unventilated air like stagnant garbage. There was no end in sight, no exit to be found. There were even thinner offshoots, places that there was no way a human could go. He almost tucked himself in one of those tight spaces when he thought he heard footsteps behind him. The Suits had to have seen where they fled to; if they were human, which they may not have been. 

“Where the hell are ya goin’?” Joey asked. “Do ya know where you’re goin’?” 

“No.” Kaiba’s voice echoed. 

“Great. Okay.” 

Full of jitters and nervous of everything he could hear but couldn’t see, Joey hopped over a knee-high pipe and ran in short bursts, crashing into the wall every so often. Kaiba looked back at Joey every couple of seconds. To affirm he was there, or to make sure he was following. Joey wasn’t sure why, but he was giddy that Kaiba was looking in the first place. He kept it up even after he ran out of breath, and didn’t pause until he was in arm’s length of Kaiba. There was comfort in being nearby, like he could feel a different kind of heat radiating from Kaiba’s body as opposed to the near frigid air around them. It was a good cold; hell, it was kind. 

Joey licked him lips and pushed his bangs out his face. “The kid wake up?” he asked, peering over Kaiba’s shoulder. 

“Not yet.” Kaiba readjusted Mokuba. “Why did you come after me?” 

“I dunno.” 

“You have to have some reason.” 

“I don’t,” Joey admitted, and after a second said: “I like ya, I guess. I wanted to make sure you’re safe.”

“As sentimental as that is,” Kaiba said, taken aback, “if they catch you, they’re likely to arrest you.” 

Joey shrugged. “I figured as much.” 

“They’re also likely to execute you for tampering with evidence of my existence.” 

“Oh. Great. That’s good to know.” 

After another fifteen minutes of walking in silence, Joey asked, “So you’re not gonna make me leave?” 

“If I thought I could convince you to, I would,” Kaiba replied. “The closest exit is where we came from, and you’re not exactly in the position to go back.” 

“Not exactly a welcome wagon back there.” 

“Precisely.” 

Joey’s stomach sank, and he glanced back into the dimness. His job back there. A real, physical, did-it-all-by-myself job that he liked, even if it was shit sometimes, was gone. “I can’t ever go back,” he said without meaning to. He pressed closer to Kaiba, hovering at his backside. 

“No.” 

“So...where do we go from here?” 

“I don’t know, yet.” 

“I thought ya knew everythin’.” 

“I said: yet.”

Kaiba stopped. The tunnel forked, with the knee-high pipe heading to the left, and a mess of wires heading to the right. The side with the wires was well-light, and Joey considered it to be the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. In the light, he could read street names. “My apartment’s down the creepy way,” he noted. 

“And?” 

“We could go there.” 

“And do what?” 

“Hide out, I guess. Figure out what’s next. It’s got a futon an’ I have a Portal if ya need it for somethin’.”

“No.”

“What? Why? It’s just a good a place as any. It—,” 

“Don’t you get it!” Kaiba roared. He spun towards Joey, and a grimace rippling across his cheeks. His nose started bleeding. “You’re in danger! The moment they saw you with me, your life was over. Your home, your job. They know anything and everything about you. Why do you think I was so mad you didn’t wake me up that day, hm? Because it wasn’t about me, you idiot.” 

“Oh.” 

Kaiba grunted and knelt to the ground, laying Mokuba down carefully. The boy’s bare legs stretched out in the light, pale and veiny. He twitched and grunted. 

Joey fell to the ground, lead-heavy. The muscles in his legs unwound. “Is he wakin’ up?” he asked, as if Kaiba said nothing. He looked at the barren surroundings to try and find a distraction. The ground. The light tunnel. He focused on his new, blue shoes, once spiffy and bright, now covered in grease and whatever else was in the tunnel. He tucked them under his butt. 

“No. They’re just unconscious reactions; he groaned the whole way here. I don’t think I’m carrying him right, but he’s awkward,” Kaiba said, rolling the too long jacket sleeves up to Mokuba’s wrists, warmly muttering, “like always.” 

“Siblin’s are like that.” 

“Mm.” 

“Ren—I told ya about my sister, Serenity?—she was like that. We slept on the same bedroll ‘til she was seven or eight, an’ I coulda swore she was all elbow, she jabbed me so much. I’d pick her sometimes, so she could reach the sink, and she’d get me in the eye.” 

“Mokuba’s an escape artist. If you pick him up, he can worm his way out.” Kaiba tried to pick Mokuba up several times, weighing the boy in his arms, before laying him down again. His shoulders sagged. He looked exhausted. “He’s been stuck in this body all this time,” Kaiba said, low. “He’s going to wake up and wonder why he hasn’t grown. And I’m going to have to explain that to him. I have to tell him he’s barely sixteen and hasn’t hit his growth spurt.” 

The creases in Kaiba’s face looked dramatic, the shadows so dark they were painted on. His pallor so light, he looked like he belonged in one of those black and white movies. 

Scooting closer, Joey wiped the blood from Kaiba’s lip with his thumb. Kaiba flinched away. 

“You gonna be alright?” Joey asked softly. 

“I’m fine.” 

“I wasn’t askin’ that. I mean after are you gonna be okay when we get outta this...if we get outta this.” 

Kaiba exhaled. “I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now we—,” 

In the distance, steady, marching footsteps echoed. 

Joey jumped up, but froze when he remembered they didn’t have a destination. They just walked and hoped they lost the stupid Suits. 

His nerves were in a flurry. Kaiba had moved only as far as to look for what was coming at them, but Joey knew he was tired. The brunet wouldn’t admit it, but Joey knew better. His struggle to pick up Mokuba said enough. 

Joey scooped up Mokuba. “We gotta go,” he whispered. “Pick a way. Hurry.” 

“Give him to me.” Kaiba fought to hold Mokuba, but Joey staggered back. 

“I won’t let the kid get hurt.“ 

“I can’t be sure of that.” 

The footsteps quickened. Could the Suits hear them talking? “We gotta go, okay? We can argue later. I got him, I swear.” 

“Joey...” 

“Didn’t ya say ya trusted me?” 

Kaiba’s jaw ticked. He was about to say something when a bright beam of light cut through the darkness. Joey recoiled, seeing spots in his eyes. Something snagged his shoulder. Joey thrashed away before being grabbed firmly, but warmly. 

“Stop being an idiot,” Kaiba hissed. 

“I can’t see.” 

“Just go.” 

The warm hand pushed between his shoulder blades and guided him forward. The more it pressed, the faster Joey went, until he was in a light jog. The surroundings came back bit-by-bit. They had gone down the darker tunnel, and Joey fumbled while balancing the dead weight in his arms. 

They went for what felt like an hour. The tunnel got tighter and stickier. Water lapped against his shins, and Joey worried that it might have been the oily rain, that it could eat his shoes and slough off his skin. Then he imagined telling Kaiba that, and shook his head. No. The water wasn’t toxic. He drank out of a faucet, this could have been faucet water. 

“Seto Kaiba! Cease and desist, and this can all go peacefully!” A Suit called. 

Joey bit his tongue, and the warm palm pressed so hard into his back that he could feel Kaiba’s nails. He thought he also felt trembling. 

“Keep going,” Kaiba pressed. “We’re near an exit, I’m sure.” 

“Okay.” 

“Don’t drop Mokuba.” 

“I won’t.” 

“If you surrender, the civilian will only face minor penalties!” A second Suit called.

The voice didn’t give away how close the Suits were. The water had rose so high, he couldn’t make out footsteps anymore, just dripping and splashing. His belief in Kaiba’s exit never wavered, they’d get out soon, and there was so much echo, he didn’t bother in being quiet. He took lunging steps to make sure that both Mokuba, and the French deck in his pant’s pocket, stayed dry.

Another beam of light cut around them, casting long shadows. 

In an instant, Kaiba broke into high-steps, sprinting through the water. He hugged the right side of the wall until he slipped into a little crack, just wider than Joey’s shoulders. He jumped once, twice, before grabbing a metal ladder and thrusting it into the water. 

“Go,” Kaiba said, squeezing back behind Joey. 

Shifting Mokuba to hang off his front like a baby, Joey ascended slowly, one hand grabbing the ladder, the other wrapped around the boy’s waist. “We got this,” he told Mokuba. “Me an’ your bro are gonna get ya to safety. Promise.” 

Mokuba groaned. 

At the ceiling, Joey leaned on the ladder and used his free hand to search for a latch or a handle. After finding nothing, he punched up until the panel jumped. Okay. So it was panel. Some of this made sense. 

Without grace, he tumbled up and over the lip and onto the cold, hard ground. Mokuba crushes his chest, but he didn’t mind. It was a good weight, and he didn’t bother sitting up. Instead, he stared up at the sky.

The sky. 

The air was heavy and wet, but despite the fear of rain, he stared at thin strips of clouds covering a hazy sky. A few stars cut through like tiny pinpricks. They did it effortlessly, twinkling in his peripheral. They were so close that he though he could touch them. 

Kaiba popped out of the tunnel. “What are you doing?” he demanded, replacing the panel. 

“Huh?” 

“We need to go.” 

Joey pointed up to the sky. “The stars,” he said, and his arm fell heavy onto Mokuba's back. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen stars.” 

“I have. Jus’ not like this.” And he let himself linger there, his arms sweeping over everything around him. Dirt, pebbles, and itchy, dewy grass. It was frail; it could have caught fire with enough friction. He grabbed a fistful of it before returning to the stars, tracing shapes with his eyes. “It’s somethin’.”

“You can see it every night.” 

“Not through the smog ya can’t.” 

“The smog is in the city. We’re just outside the limits right now. Things are different.” Kaiba rounded Joey and stood at his feet. “Now get up. Those goons are still chasing us, so we’re not safe yet. We have to get out of this city.” 

Joey sat up. He took a clump of dirt and grass with him, massaging it in his hand. “Will that be enough?” 

“Possibly.“ 

“A’right. Guess it’s gotta be,” Joey said, resolute. “So how do we do that?” 

“Quietly and calmly.”

Kaiba paced in even circles at Joey’s feet before crossing to the panel, standing on it. Around them were single-story brick houses like Joey saw in old movies. Some had missing shingles and shutters. Others had plants and vines crawling up them. One even had a tree growing through it. But they all had signs that read: _CONDEMNED_ and _DANGER! QUARANTINE ZONE_ in big, red letters. 

In the distance, he saw the tooth-like buildings reaching towards the sky, their lights paling in comparison to the few visible stars. The KC building was uncharacteristically dark. 

All of this grass, dirt, and the little houses, were barely an hour’s walk from the library. There were probably other things, too. Barns, and movie theatres, and parks with metal slides and swings. 

Out of the corner of his eye, something moved. Joey tensely turned towards it, only to notice there were junkmen creeping out of the houses. The stood, still, on their sunk-in porches. A few men and women, with wrinkled faces and patchwork clothes. They lived in the shadow of the tall buildings, on the edge of the city, in a place he wouldn’t have even considered to live, though they had more than two rooms. Maybe four. Or five. 

One of the men stepped from his porch. 

Joey pressed Mokuba close to his chest. “We should get outta here first, before the junkmen get any ideas,” he said, standing. 

“They won’t.” 

“How do ya know?” 

“Because I’ve been living around them,” Kaiba said. “And besides, they’re people, same as you and me. The only unfortunate choice they’ve made is to live independent of the Portal. Some use it, but only if it’s absolutely necessary.” 

“You talked to ‘em?” 

“Rarely. They aren’t very forthcoming.” 

Joey pinched his lips. More junkmen—junkpeople?—came into the view. They looked between him and Kaiba, and for a moment he saw a kid no older than six or seven poke out of one of the houses. A junkwoman pushed them back inside. 

“They kept ya alive, though?” 

“In a way. They gave me a place to stay, and I bartered for food when I couldn't find it. They don’t like credits, so I spent the daytime scavenging in places in the city they didn’t like going.” 

“I was wonderin’ how you were eatin’ and sleepin’,” Joey said, and he frowned. “Sorry I never suggested ya stay with me.” 

“Why would you?” 

He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess ‘cause it’s like you said: I’m attached, so I—,”

“It was safer this way,” Kaiba said. “Plus as...interesting...as that would have been, I accomplished more by staying with them. See how KaibaCorp’s dark?” 

“Yeah.” 

“They did that. They know where all the old sewer tunnels and power lines are; they gave me old maps of the city and showed me how to bypass the lovely gassing patrols that still come and ‘clean’ the city,” he said, sneering. “Ridiculous, useless protocols. That’s why you can’t pass a health check, by the way. If you’ve come from a city that’s been gassed, they assume you were in a quarantine zone. Except they don’t know where those zones are anymore. They don’t know why they’re gassing anymore, or if people are even sick.” 

“So...could we pass it now?” 

“I don’t see why not. The air’s clear here, in case you didn’t notice." 

Joey took in a deep breath of air. His eyes didn’t water. His nose only ran a little. “Then it should be easy to get outta the city. We should be able to catch a train. Jus’ gotta get the tickets.” 

Unimpressed, Kaiba asked: “And go where?” 

Joey grinned. Excitement made his heart was beating so hard, he thought it would wake Mokuba up. “My friends. That girl you looked up for me, remember? Téa? My friend wants to go see her in person, and I wanna see my friend in person an’...”His cheeks warmed. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is I have a place to go far away from here. We jus’ gotta get the tickets. You seem to be made of credits, so...” 

“Was made of credits,” Kaiba scoffed. “Whatever I have has long been frozen or seized by KC lackeys.” 

“I’ll figure out somethin’ then.” 

The panel rattled. Joey froze in place, and only thawed when Kaiba grasped his elbow firmly. He tripped over himself to keep up with Kaiba as they hurried into the house with the _CONDEMNED_ sign. 

The Suits popped out of the panel. They spilled out like formless shadows and beelined for the houses. 

Joey braced then walk beside the door. He covered his mouth and clutched Mokuba tight. After a few seconds, Kaiba enveloped them both like a blanket while watching as the shadow of the Suits filed by the screen door. The junkmen moaned and shouted soundbites from old commercials. Some stopped their feet and banged the walls.

In the unsure moment, all Joey could do was think was that this was the end. The Suits would come in and pry him and Kaiba apart, they take him and Mokuba away and, if radio plays had anything to say about execution, it would happen then and there. Bam. One shot and he was done, just like a dog. 

Joey frowned. He hoped that they would take Kaiba away before they executed him. He didn’t need Kaiba to see him killed or have it on his conscience. The truth was, this wasn’t Kaiba’s fault, it was his. He did everything willingly and without hesitation from the moment that Kaiba touched his hand. 

And that was okay. 

It was okay that life was over. Kaiba said it plainly, in anguish, as if Joey had made much of a life for himself to begin with. He had an apartment that no one but him had seen the inside of, friends who didn’t know what he really looked like, and he spent countless hours at an in-person job that no one visited. He lived vicariously through hundred year-old movies, and had vivid daydreams that no experience could match. He couldn’t count the hours he’d spent looking out windows and hoping for something to happen, ignoring the obvious: that he could do something about it. 

Despite being crouched down in fear, he’d never been more invigorated. Yeah, he was scared shitless. But it was a feeling he hadn’t ever had the opportunity to experience. He wouldn’t trade clutching Mokuba—a virtual stranger—tight, or Kaiba’s hot breath puffing against the backs of ears for any ‘experience’ a Portal or a library could give him. It wouldn’t be good enough. 

So he poked his head up, watching the Suits parade across the porches, listening to the shouts and sneers of the junkpeople. He looked up at the fierce determination on Kaiba’s face. He’d be confident. He’d pick up Mokuba and run if he had to, and when the Suits formed a line and made gestures at one another like they were about to charge into the house, he tensed. 

And then they left. 

Joey let out a long exhale, and reached out to grip Kaiba’s arm. He was chill and shivering. Or was it a tremble, instead? 

“We good?” Joey whispered. 

“For now.” 

“How much time ya think we got?” 

“Just enough to get out,” Kaiba said. “Though I don’t think your friends are our best bet.” 

Joey furrowed his brows. “How do you know? Ya don’t know ‘em. They’re good people.” 

“I didn’t say they weren’t.”

“Ya basically did.” 

Kaiba rolled his eyes. “They’re not secure. That’s what I mean.” 

“I thought ya said all we gotta do is get outta the city. This is that,” Joey argued. “An’ for what it’s worth, they wanna meet in-person. You can see ‘em in the flesh, like me. I trust ‘em, an’ you trust me, I think. That’s gotta count for somethin’, right?” 

“...perhaps,” Kaiba said, bobbing his head back and forth. “Though I’m hesitant on meeting more people like you. One of you is enough.” 

“Aw, c’mon, you like me.” 

“I do,” Kaiba said simply. 

It was simple, really. It didn’t mean much. But it felt like the dreams where they floated in the clouds and their bellies touched. 

“Well, I like ya, too,” Joey said. He moved Mokuba onto his back and stood up, gripping beneath the boy’s knees. He bumped elbows with Kaiba. “Let’s get goin’ ‘fore we overstay our welcome.” 

“Mm.”

—

Throughout the walk, they didn’t speak. Joey drank in the changing scenery. A single, blacktop road cut through grasses and trees that went for miles and miles. The further they got from the city, the clearer the sky became, and the more stars appeared. Kaiba pointed out some of the constellations when he caught Joey staring. He warmed, and brushed Kaiba off, because he worried he stared at Kaiba more than he did the stars. They competed with each other—though his awe came from different places. 

This was the real experience. There were trees in all shapes; gangly and gnarly, with their leaves falling off in warm, stiff breezes. There were rusted signs and uneven roads with chipped paint. There was trash on the sides; cans and bags and little food containers that were partially overtaken by mushrooms and fluffy, white flowers. He got caught up looking at one so long that Kaiba yanked him back onto the road to continue. 

It was so quiet that every snap of a twig, crunch of grass, or kicked, clattering pebble drew his attention. For a few moments, it drizzled lightly, and the rain hissed against the ground. He tensed at first, and Kaiba gripped his elbow lightly. They didn’t have to look at each other. He admired the drops hanging from Kaiba’s eyelashes, and the way the rain traced down his nose and washed away the blood of his lip. They stopped to cover Mokuba’s head with the jacket before continuing. 

It rained for a half-an-hour or so. Steam rose from the fields and the blacktop. Everything was shapes and outlines, and Joey’s imagination painted in the details. At one point, in the distance, a group of what he thought were deer grazed, though for the first and only time all night, a large, black shipping truck passed them, and the deer quickly sprung away. 

They continued on. 

—

It was dawn before they closed in a short, white building with hundreds of windows. Soft yellow light beamed off them. They passed under a gate that announced: _Domino City Railway Station_. 

They crossed the vast, half-empty parking lot, and went in through a tall set of automatic sliding doors. Inside, the air was cool. Joey stopped to bask in it, and only then did he notice how drenched in sweat he was. His legs and feet ached so miserably he thought they’d snap off. His arms had gone numb hours before. It was a sensation that, despite all the times he ran for miles down hallways of doors, or simulated playing team sports while in school, or even ran around the amusement park with Serenity, he’d never felt before. It was exhausting; it was exhilarating. It was real. 

“We made it,” Joey said, gasping in the cool, clean air. “How do we get ticket?” 

Kaiba nudged him towards a row of rectangular screens, not unlike the panels in the library. 

Instinctively, Joey logged in. His virtual profile popped up. Where he worked; where he lived; where he stored his credits. The sites he’d been to, the movies he’d seen, things he’d bought, and people he hung out with. Everything. His life summed up in a screen and a username. 

He looked up the ticket prices to Yugi’s city and winced. 1350 credits for the three of them, but it left in less than an hour. 

With some hesitation, he tapped through several menus and found Yugi’s contact. He clicked the chat icon and sent a quick message: 

||_Sorry if this is short and sweet. I’m heading your way and bringing a friend. I need like 500 credits. Spot me and I pay you back?_||

Within seconds, Yugi responded: 

_||Sure. ;D You don’t need to pay me back. Is it that friend?||_

Joey grinned and sent a winking face. In another window, his account started flashing when the credits were deposited. As he bought the tickets, a little telephone icon popped up in the corner with Yugi’s name on it. He declined. “We’ll be there soon, bud,” he muttered, laughing to himself. 

Three circular, metal disks dropped into the vending slot. He took them and handed two to Kaiba. 

“Now all we gotta do is the health check,” Joey said, spinning on his heel. The station was as wide as it was tall. Signs hung over every walkway, that went every direction, flashing city names and departure times faster than he could read them. The few people that were in the station walked briskly with their bags rolling behind them. They all seemed to know where they were going; they probably did this everyday and were able to do it with their eyes closed. “So...where do we do this?”

“Walk towards the metal detector,” said Kaiba. 

“Metal detector. Okay.” 

“And calm down.” 

“I am calm.” 

“Hn.”

“I am calm, dammit,” he said, but his head was floating. 

Ahead was a large gate that went from one wall to the other. It had at least two dozen separate doorways with stanchions the files people through the metal detector. Except Joey remembered Yugi’s grandpa saying it was ‘more than a metal detector. It sees everything and knows everything’, and he imagined the old man waggling his fingers. 

A screen laid out a long set of instructions, and he looked behind him to make sure he wasn’t holding anyone up while he skimmed them. He took off his shoes and socks and pulled the French deck from his pocket, putting it in a plastic container beside him. It was whisked down a conveyor belt and into the abyss. 

Stepping into the gate, he stopped at a candy-stripped arm blocking his path. Instructions flashed and told him to put his hands on his head. He clenched his fists as a set of lasers scanned him from the foot up, the same as his first Portal set had done to him so long ago. A basic image of his body appeared on a screen over his head. 

_Initiate.Scanning.Protocol v15.6.2_   
_._   
_._   
_._   
_Please remain still_   
_._   
_._   
_._   
_Temperature: normal_   
_BP: normal_   
_Oxygen: normal _   
_Platelet count: normal_   
_Heart rate: 116_   
_Signs of virus? (y/n): negative_

Joey blinked. His fists unclenched, and when the screen turned green, the arm rose and let him by. He threw on his shoes and shoved his socks his pocket along with the deck. 

“And how’d that go?” Kaiba asked smugly. He waited on a bench with Mokuba propped against his side.

“Fine. Kinda...underwhelmin’. I thought it would poke me to take blood or make me spit in a cup or somethin’.” 

“Please. Technology is much sharper than that,” Kaiba said.

Joey sat on the other side of Mokuba, rubbing the boy’s shoulder. “Almost feels like its jus’...there. Makes me wonder if it’s busted or if whatever sickness you were talkin’ about even exists anymore, seein’ as I’ve never heard of it.” 

“It’s possible,” Kaiba replied. “Its hard to tell, since there’s no recent data on it. The thing you all call ‘Sloth Sickness’ is a possible mutated form of it.” 

Joey didn’t want to imagine that. It’d be terrifying. “Guess we won’t know until people get back together.” 

“They won’t.” 

Joey clicked his tongue. “Man, don’t be so negative. I’m out and about. My friends wanna get together. Those...people. The...well, I don’t wanna call them junkmen, I don’t know what they exactly.” 

“The minority. The ‘them’. A hundred years of fear, propaganda and a technological-reliant society like this?” Kaiba looked up at the glass ceiling, where the sun ebbed and flowed with the passing clouds. “It’s the cultural norm. Going against the grain would be like social suicide.” 

“Eh. It can change.” 

“Hmph.”

“It can. I changed. The rest of the world can too, trust me.” 

The breathy, mirthful laugh was all Joey needed to hear. He leaned his head back as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds and brightened the atrium. It warmed his skin without making his sweat. He wanted to sleep, but he needed to make it just a bit longer. 

Kaiba stood, wobbling, when it was time to go. Joey scooped up Mokuba before Kaiba could, not wanting him to overexert himself and get another nosebleed. He ignored Kaiba’s jabs all the way to the platform. Two other people waited waited, staring at their watches. 

Exactly on the hour, a royal blue train with a red stripe came charging into the station. It stopped swiftly and smoothly, it’s doors lining up with the turnstiles. Kaiba went first, flicking the disk-ticket into the little slot. He passed the other back, and Joey flicked them in for him and Mokuba. Inside was a private cabin a single porthole window and leather seats that faced. 

Joey kept looking over his shoulder, waiting for the Suits burst onto the platform. Still, he laid Mokuba across one of the seats and sat next to Kaiba, shimmying close. The doors snapped closed, and after a short announcement, the train rattled to life and sped off, first through a dark tunnel before shooting across the milky green and blue landscape. 

The gentle vibration of the cabin pulled him into a haze. His shoulders sagged, and let his fear bleed as the got further from the station. 

Resting his head against Kaiba’s shoulder, Joey closed his eyes. “This is smooth,” he mumbled.

“It is.” 

“I might fall asleep.” 

“Then do it.” 

“I’m afraid to,” Joey admitted. His eyes snapped open, his vision blurry. “I keep thinkin’ this is one of my daydreams. There’s this one where it feels like we’re flyin’, an’ when we do, we end up—,” 

Kaiba slipped his arm around Joey’s shoulder and pressed him closer. His shirt was warm, but damp. “Don’t be ridiculous. If this were a dream, it’d be much nicer than this.” 

“This is nice.” 

“If you say so.” 

“It is.” 

Across from them, Mokuba rolled to face them. He took handfuls of the coat and wrapped it around himself. For a brief second, his eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled, “...Seto...” before burying his face in the seat. 

“Right here, kiddo.” 

A tiny smile appeared, and Mokuba curled into ball, promptly falling back asleep. 

Joey couldn’t resist laughing. “He’s been out that whole time an’ is still findin’ time to sleep,” he said, as if his eyes weren’t drooping to try and make him sleep, too. No. He didn’t want this to be like his daydream. He didn’t want to wake back up in the library looking out at the oily rain as it streaked down the windows. He didn’t want the air conditioner rattling to be the reason he awoke, and he didn’t want to be left wondering if Kaiba would ever come back. 

“We’ve got a long trip,” Kaiba said. “Let him sleep.” 

“Yeah.” And Joey got an idea. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the deck of cards. “Since we got a while, show me jus’ how good at poker ya are.” 

“That’ll be a short game.” 

“Oh yeah? Put your credits where your cramhole is then.” 

Joey slipped away from Kaiba, turning to face him. He sat cross-legged across from him, but not before leaning forward and pecking his cheek. The brunet bit back a grin, and Joey dealt out the cards while Kaiba attempted to explain the finer points of the game. His head was lost in the literal clouds as they zoomed by, darkening until fat raindrops pattered against the window. It was ugly. It was imperfect and he had to fight his instincts of its horribleness. But that would be life from now on—he'd have to get used to it, and he would. Everything he knew was left behind on the screen in the train station. The only things left about him there were true was his list of movies, and his list of friends, with the addition of one name. A name that he’d definitely put a heart next to if it was in his contacts list, and then he’d fight whether or not he’d tell Seto Kaiba it was there. 

His eyes drooped as the train pulled into the station. He was so close to his friends, to his new life, to everything. He stared at the uneven drops and began to hum _Singin’ in the Rain_. When Kaiba curled his nose, Joey grabbed his hand and began to sing: 

“..._what a glorious feelin’, I’m happy again_...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of different routes I could take. I had planned a full on meeting of the characters, but it didn’t work. I thought this worked the best. This has been a fun ride, and while there’s a wealth of different things to explore in this world, especially with our current world, I figured it was more important to keep it to these two. 
> 
> So I hope you enjoyed the journey. Tell me what you think. And I’ll see you in the next story.


End file.
